


The Game

by Pixeled



Category: Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Character Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Rape, Sephesis, Tragedy, Underage - Freeform, boylove
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-03-16
Packaged: 2018-09-24 07:33:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 15
Words: 25,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9711242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pixeled/pseuds/Pixeled
Summary: Sephiroth/Genesis: It was just a game, until it became more. COMPLETED.





	1. The Game

“Check mate, Sephiroth,” Genesis drawled, hand propping up his chin as he easily bested his superior with his rook and his king. The rook was his favorite piece, and this set was especially gorgeous. It was a fine Swarovski crystal that caught the dying light as the two ended their two hour game. They were evenly matched, but Genesis would say he was better as he'd been playing longer, ever since he was a child. The game held a special fondness in his heart, for it was much like military warfare, and his maid had taught him how to play. She was his main caretaker, as his parents were often too busy to deal with him. She was very good, but she had taught him to be better. In capturing Sephiroth, he was playing out an age old fantasy of his of besting his childhood hero.

“Well played,” Sephiroth sighed, admitting the defeat. The tension seemed to seep out of him. His hand unfurled—had it been tensed this whole time? This was not an easy thing for him. It was the first time they hadn't ended in a draw. He had never won—Genesis was too well-versed for all that, and he never made his General feel as though he was just playing a game of cat and mouse, although he very well might be.

Genesis was looking at him in a way he had never seen before. Was it pity? He hated pity. It made him feel like a child all over again after the labs, when Gast would give him such a look as to make him feel every bit the child he was.

“You almost had me,” Genesis said breathily. His voice seemed more suited for poetry than pleasantries.

“You had me ten moves ago. You made sure I knew it,” Sephiroth said in a dangerous tone.

“Be that as it may,” the red headed youth laughed, “you had an opening. You were too hungry for my bloodshed to see it.” Sephiroth’s eyes glowed dangerously in the failing light. He did not take easily to being goaded into admitting he made mistakes. His job as a General, ever since he was fifteen, was to think calculatingly—to never make a mistake, or his men would meet cruel ends.

Genesis tipped Sephiroth’s king over with a flourish and smiled softly. “You never should have let me keep my favorite piece.” He picked up the rook lovingly and stroked its velvet bottom, then placed it back down again. “Go again?” He asked, eyes flashing with mako energy.

“Dinner would be more prudent than another two hour game,” Sephiroth sighed. “You are welcome to stay.” Sephiroth touched his fingers to a panel at the side of the wall and low light flooded the room, a soft yellow hue that would be easy on sensitive mako eyes. This wasn't Genesis’s first time in the silver-haired General’s apartment, but its sheer functionality always fascinated him. There was no clutter, no books, just black and white, like a chessboard. Its pieces were the several panels which controlled mundane things like light, temperature, and the various technological gadgets that seemed to come out of nowhere. It was utilitarian in nature, just like its owner.

“I _am_ hungry,” Genesis admitted. He wasn't just hungry for food, though. Winning had made his body thrum with excitement, and seeing Sephiroth defeated was just as fine as any ripe fruit. But he knew these things went over Sephiroth’s head. When it came to Genesis, winning was just as good as making love and being thoroughly sated, and the moment where Sephiroth knew he was defeated had made such a sweet expression cross his face until he had schooled his face into impassiveness. He briefly wondered what it would be like to make him take down that mask, to let himself succumb to passion. Let himself, Genesis mused, as if he ever would. Sephiroth never let himself look anything else but impassive, cool, like the silver hair and hard steel he possessed.

“Good. I have some left over stew from last night. I'll warm it for you,” Sephiroth said, standing up smoothly. Genesis set about putting away the chess board as Sephiroth heated up the food. He looked up once or twice, always fascinated with how the young man moved about when he didn't know he was being watched. Seeing him doing such a menial thing as warming up food never lost its luster for Genesis, who once believed the General had people do this sort of thing for him. He was surprised to find out when they became friends that Sephiroth lived simply, like any other young man, even if his apartment reeked of money in only the way simplicity and beauty had any right to be. Genesis came from a background of flaunting money, whereas Sephiroth merely had it and the only way it showed was in that he had comfort where others did not. He had a large screen TV that hid inside a console that rolled out smoothly when he tapped a screen on his wall. He had heated floors. But his apartment held the bare minimum of things. The apartment didn't even have a lived in scent, probably owing to the fact that the man rarely spent time in it. He was usually gone on missions or locked in his office.

“Not still reveling in your victory, are we?” Sephiroth asked as he set a white bowl filled with delicious-smelling stew in front of Genesis. Genesis hadn't even noticed the approach. Sephiroth just seemed to materialize when he moved, which was rather annoying.

“Thinking about your apartment, actually,” Genesis stated. “It's so different than mine.”

“We don't all love poetry,” Sephiroth replied, a smile playing at the corners of his lips as he sat beside Genesis with his own stew in a matching black bowl.

“A pity, that. I would love to hear you recite some, with that voice.”

“A task more suited to you,” Sephiroth stated, placing a mouthful of food into his mouth and then chewing thoughtfully.

“I’ll recite it for the both of us, then. Infinite in mystery—“

“Is the gift of the goddess. I know.”

“You've been listening,” Genesis smiled genuinely.

“How can I not?” Sephiroth teased. Genesis would have bristled at that, but if he was being honest with himself, he loved this game more than chess. If only Sephiroth would let his guard down just a little, just enough to see what they could really be once those walls he put up were done away with.

Silence passed between the two of them as they ate. Genesis contemplated Sephirioth’s civilian clothes. He wondered if he had a closet full of the same pressed white shirts and black pants as he had never seen him wear anything but those items aside from his leathers. He couldn't imagine The Great General pressing his clothes, but then he'd never imagined he'd cook for himself either. Oh he wanted to be a fly on the wall one day just to see how Sephiroth went about his life on a regular day. He had glimpses, but oh, it could be so much more.

Sephiroth, for his part, was unaware of Genesis’s feelings. As far as he was concerned, Genesis was his second-in-command, a friend made out of the necessity of war. Friends did not come easily to him.Professor Gast had been his friend once, but that was a lifetime ago, or so it felt like that. He never knew the circumstances of his death, but had always assumed Professor Hojo had something to do with it. Genesis and Angeal were close to his age, and they were different—military men. Boys, really, but then he was also a boy. He often forgot that, feeling and acting much older. Death does that to a person. He was eight when he'd first sunk fine steel into another person, taking their life. The man had been surprised, and wore that mask of surprise in death. Sephiroth had merely carried out an order, but he had surprised himself with the pleasure he felt at defeating his enemy. Death came way too easy to him, even then. It was why he'd been so reluctant to befriend Genesis and Angeal. He feared that one day he'd be ordered to kill these men he'd called friends, and that terrified him in the feeling of his own humanity. Even now, with Genesis so close, he was uncomfortable, waiting for the eventual time when he would leave so he'd be alone with his thoughts instead of engaged in this game played. It wasn't the chess or the sparring that made up the game, but something more primal.

“What are you thinking about? You're quieter than usual, and that’s impressive.” Genesis made a show of sliding back a long silver bang to look in the other young man’s eyes, as Sephiroth often hid behind the fringe of his hair.

“You would not like what I am thinking about,” Sephiroth said honestly. This surprised Genesis. It was rare that he had any insight to the inner workings of the other boy’s mind. And he doubted he’d get much more out of him. But he had to try.

“Try me,” Genesis said silkily.

“I just don't understand,” Sephiroth started, but then stopped, looking away. If he couldn't hide behind hid hair, then he didn't have to look into those eyes. He knew Genesis was far from innocent, having killed his fair share of men, but he didn't think he had ever enjoyed it. Sephiroth knew in that moment that he was a monster, an abomination of everything he held dear. Only…what did he hold dear? There wasn't much. He had friends. Before that, he had had nothing to lose. He almost missed that time before Angeal and Genesis. It seemed more…….more what? He wasn't sure.  
  
“What don't you understand?” Genesis asked, one delicate brow arched. He was staring intently and Sephiroth could feel the gaze of those icy blue eyes.

“Why you're my friend.”

“Are you serious?” Genesis laughed. Sephiroth blinked, eyes taking on a confused light.

“Wasn't that obvious?” He asked.

“Oh my dear sweet Sephiroth. Little Sephiroth, you know not a thing. I dreamt of being your friend since I was…what, nine? Do you have any idea how much your friendship matters to me?” Genesis laughed, a melodic sound that Sephiroth was surprised to hear. That he was the cause of that laughter made his cheeks color a bit. He was not pleased with being called affectionate terms, but had completely missed them in the meaning of Genesis’s words.

“Would you really be my friend if you knew what darkness lay in my heart?” Sephiroth wondered aloud.

“Ah,” Genesis said, understanding now. “But darkness needs light—Just like fire needs ice. You will always be the ice to my flame. Perhaps more.”

“More?” Sephiroth asked innocently. He looked unflinchingly into those icy blue eyes that were such a contrast to the red hair that the young man possessed. He didn't understand the meaning even then, so he looked down to his hands, which had unconsciously clenched. He released them now, and colored more at realizing how close Genesis had become to him, both bodily and spiritually.

“I've always wanted more from you. Do you remember my letters?”

“I still have them. In my office.”

“Your office?” Genesis laughed.

“Don't laugh,” Sephiroth said. “I keep everything important there under lock and key.”

“I'm flattered, truly. But look, I know you won't get what I mean unless I spell it out for you.”

Sephiroth looked up, surprised to find Genesis had moved even closer.

“Have you ever thought what you mean to me?” Genesis asked. Their knees were touching now, and Genesis’s scent invaded Sephiroth’s personal space. It was a scent of apples and a hint of cinnamon and spice. Sephiroth himself, having showered before Genesis arrived, smelled only of soap and a faint trace of his shampoo and conditioner.

“I…no,” Sephiroth admitted.

“You mean the world to me,” Genesis admitted. It was not easy for him to say so. Just hours before they had been locking swords, and taunts were tumbling out of both boys’ mouths at that point, as they usually were wont to do. Angeal, tired of apologizing for the poor fate of every regeneration of the holodeck on Level 49, had successfully intervened this time. Genesis could still feel Sephiroth’s hand around his neck as they fought.

“I do?” Sephiroth quieried.

“How can you be so blind when you're so brilliant?” Genesis asked. The backhanded compliment stunned Sephiroth into more silence. “I've wanted to be more than friends for a while now, but….”

“More than friends?” Sephiroth asked, uncertain of the implication.

“Yes. More than friends. Lovers. Oh, think about it. What it could be like.” He unconsciously touched his throat where undoubtedly bruises would be forming now. They wouldn't stay for long, not with mako in his system, but Sephiroth had really choked him to the point where his vision swam.

“Lovers?” Sephiroth repeated incredulously. “Are….is this some new game?”

“No, you idiot. I like you.”

“You…..you do? Why?”

“He asks why,” Genesis sighed frustratedly as if to an audience, splaying his hands wide. “Why, one just has to look at you, at us, to find the answer to that.”

“I’ve never—“ Sephiroth found that Genesis pressed a finger to his lips, looking at him insistently.

“I know you had no idea I felt this way. It was a part of the game. But I'm tired of a game I'll always lose, Sephiroth. I realized the only way to play was to tell you. Don't lie to me and tell you me you don't feel that exhilaration when our swords cross. When our blood pumps the same fire. It's in our makeup. We were destined for one another.”

“That sounds suspiciously like poetry,” Sephiroth laughed mirthlessly. “Are you toying with me even now?”

“What would be my endgame in that?” Genesis asked. “When you choked me earlier, I saw stars. I wanted you to kiss me. I wanted you to feel the same desire I feel for you.” Sephiroth couldn't help the heat rising off his face and surely thought he must be red by now.

“I….I felt it too. I just.” He shook his head, looking far away. Genesis forced his head back to him with his fingers, staring into blue-green eyes.

“You what?” He asked, lips a mere millimeter from Sephiroth’s.

“Don't think I deserve it,” Sephiroth replied weakly. He felt drained having admitted it.

“Oh, my dear dear Sephiroth. You are not the monster you make yourself out to be. We are all of us with one foot in darkness. You, me, Angeal. We are warriors. We kill. We’re good at it.”

“I was eight when I first took a life,” Sephiroth said miserably, eyes downcast. Genesis could force his chin, but not his eyes.

“You don't owe me any explanations, Sephiroth. I know you were bred to kill. But Sephiroth? You are human. We are human.”

“I'm not so sure….”

“Well, I am. I believe I was meant to show you that humanity you have inside you.”

“How do you mean to do that?” Sephiroth’s eyes rose up to meet Genesis’s.

“Kiss me,” Genesis breathed. “I want you to. I've always wanted you to.”

“What if I'm bad at it?” He asked, which garnered a genuine musical laugh from his red headed friend.

“So is thar a yes?” He asked softly. He took Sephiroth's hand and slid in closer, their chests pressing together. Sephiroth's heart hammered in his chest, and he felt that Genesis’s was too.

“Yes,” Sephiroth said, pressing his lips to Genesis’s. He stayed there for what felt like eternity before he deepened the kiss. Genesis moaned softly and placed the hand he'd captured against his chest.

“Do you feel that?” Genesis asked when their lips parted. Sephiroth nodded. Genesis was trembling with desire.

“Yes,” he answered.

“Was that your first kiss, sweet Sephiroth?”

“Yes…..”

“Is that all you can say?” Genesis laughed.

“Y—” Before he could say it again, Genesis snared him in a deep kiss that stole his breath away.

  


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Kiss me, General,” Genesis gasped, even as his vision swam. Sephiroth was choking him now and he struggled to take in gasps of air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What follows is mostly angst, with some battling, and a lot of sexual tension for Genesis.

Sephiroth had been avoiding Genesis, throwing himself into pointless missions and endless trips to the lab to forget the passionate moment they shared. Goddess but the boy could be so stubborn. After a week Genesis was thoroughly confused and hurt. Hadn’t Sephiroth enjoyed what they shared? He decided to follow him from the labs one evening. Sephiroth was moving slower than usual, seeming to be hurt.

“You're following me,” Sephiroth announced. The presence of mako was strong, and Sephiroth’s senses were on fire with the presence of Genesis.

“I came to fight you, but I can see that you're hurt. I won't fight a wounded comrade.”

“Craving the game so strongly already?” Sephiroth asked, eyes flashing brightly. There was a weariness behind those eyes.

“What did he do to you?” Genesis asked almost casually, sheathing Rapier.

“Nothing I cannot handle,” the smug bastard responded. Sephiroth could be so infuriating. 

“Tell me,” Genesis breathed.

They were in Sector 5. The smell of steel and grime was strong. The smell of Sephiroth was strong. He'd been bandaged carefully. Across his chest ran a long ribbon of white wrapped around him, half obscured by his leather coat but still entirely too visible against his alabaster skin. Genesis had always stared transfixed by that arrogant display of whiteness, that oddly sensual way he bared his chest. He had always thought it was stupid how he bared himself to the enemy, but knew he'd never be killed. The wounds would heal, but he noticed that fresh blood was staining that stark white bandage. The smell of copper sweetness was strong in his nostrils, permeating the air. Sephiroth seemed uncharacteristically exhausted.

“What happens in the lab is private,” Sephiroth told him simply, shrugging. The action sent his hair spilling over his shoulder. The answer did not satisfy Genesis, but then he knew before Sephiroth even uttered the words what he would say. Hojo had a power over him no other man did. What that man did to torture him Genesis could only wonder. He stepped closer, palm resting over the fresh wound on the other teen’s chest. 

“One day I will sink my blade deep in his belly and twist,” Genesis seethed.

“It's part of my life,” Sephiroth stated. His eyes were a dim light now but even then they seemed to illuminate the slums, giving light to a lightless place. As Genesis crept closer, almost like a predator approaching a helpless prey, Sephiroth stood back, his leather shifting over his lithe frame. It was a battle-ready stance. Masamune seemed to appear as if out of nowhere, and Genesis bared Rapier in a flourish, eyes flashing.

“Damn it, Sephiroth,” Genesis said, canines flashing with the cruel smile that accompanied his red steel.

“I can best you even now,” Sephiroth said as if bored. He raised Masamune in a high arc, creating some distance between them even as Genesis flashed forward and slashed angrily. Steel against steel rang out in the hollow area. 

“I will be stronger than you one day, and when that day comes, I want you to get on your knees and beg for forgiveness,” Genesis roared, his face close to Sephiroth’s as their blades kissed, the sheer force between both their wielders making them spark.

“Oh?” Sephiroth intoned. Moments ago he'd seemed a wounded animal to Genesis, but now he seemed to possess a strength that resonated from his body almost effortlessly. 

“I won't stop until you see me that way,” Genesis promised.

“Do come and try,” the silver-haired warrior said, smug smile crossing his lovely face. 

Genesis pulled his sword away and swiftly parried a stinging strike that ran through his body like a live wire, his muscles protesting as he held Masamune away from his face. Blades danced, fighters parried and struck, and it began to rain heavily. Still they pressed on, seeming evenly matched. 

"You've been getting better,” Sephiroth commented when Genesis drove him back. He had landed heavily against a wall and it crumbled below him, leaving him to leap away and stalk Genesis like a predator hunting his prey. His feet shifted and he stood in a fighting stance once again, the fingers of his gloved hands flicking the other boy towards him in a condescending manner. Genesis, for his part, accepted the challenge and drove forward. Now it was his turn to be flung into the crumbling wall. He winced as the pain raced through him and ran to descend on Sephiroth once again. This time as their blades clashed Genesis closed the distance between them, his lips crushing against Sephiroth’s. Lightning flashed as Genesis kissed Sephiroth, and it seemed to rain even harder. It was hard to tell now who was kissing whom. 

Sephiroth laughed as the kiss parted and drew Masamune up to Genesis’s throat.

“Check mate,” he said, keeping the steel at the pulse of Genesis’s life. Icy blue eyes burned into mako green. A small trickle of blood skirted its way into the collar of Genesis’s shirt. “Beg for your forgiveness? I think not. It is you who should get on your knees and worship your General.”

“Never,” Genesis hissed, cursing as he lowered his blade and raised his hand to gently slide Sephiroth’s wet hair out of his face. Sephiroth drew his blade away from Genesis’s throat and sheathed Masamune, drawing the slightly smaller boy close to him. His canines glistened as he ran his mouth along the delicate shape of Genesis’s ear. 

“You think this is a game,” he whispered harshly, “but it’s not.”

“What is it then?” Genesis asked, shivering, and not because it was cold and raining. Even now, Sephiroth had sway over him.

“You want me to kiss you again,” Sephiroth said, considering the heat coming off Genesis, the way he could feel his pulse quicken when he closed his fingers around his friend’s throat. 

"Yes," Genesis breathed. He moved his face, lips hovering against Sephiroth’s.

“Why?” Sephiroth asked, squeezing harder.

“Kiss me, General,” Genesis gasped, even as his vision swam. Sephiroth was choking him now and he struggled to take in gasps of air.

“Tell me why,” Sephiroth said, his voice dark.

“Because I want you to. Because you are mine.”

Sephiroth let go of Genesis, his eyes searching his. He seemed to consider this. 

“I am no one’s,” Sephiroth said.

“Then kiss me and let me show you that it's not true,” Genesis hissed, grabbing a fistful of rain-soaked silver hair and pulling Sephiroth closer. Sephiroth pressed his lips against Genesis’s and kissed him deeply, tongue sliding between sharp teeth. They kissed until Genesis pulled away and closed his fingers around Sephiroth’s bruised throat. Did Hojo do this to him too? He wondered. Did that man put his hand around that white throat and squeeze? Sephiroth’s eyes flashed something dangerous, but he moved his hair away and looked defiantly in Genesis’s eyes. 

"No one owns me,” he said, lips parting to gasp a bit. 

“He tries,” Genesis said, almost spitting the words. He squeezed harder, and now it was Sephiroth’s turn to pull in ragged breaths. The comment went unanswered and was lost in more heated kisses. “You've been avoiding me. Why?” Genesis asked, fingers loosening around that white throat but staying there, stroking the flesh almost apologetically.

“I told you,” Sephiroth stated. “This is not a game for me.”

“It's not a game for me either, Sephiroth. I like you. I've always liked you.”

“Then you know I cannot.”

“Can't what?”

“I cannot be your lover,” Sephiroth stated simply, as if it could ever be that simple. He turned his back then and left, his black coat shining with rain.


	3. Love and Loss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one is inspired by the piece Sephiroth plays in Lord Godo’s tent by the same name.
> 
> https://youtu.be/6qcPBN7O3JY

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Genesis cries.

He stood at the end of a cliff in Junon which saw Sister Ray in the distance. Steps came up behind him.

  
"Genesis," the gruff voice greeted.

  
"Angeal," Genesis responded moodily.

  
"It's been a month since you've been acting like this," Angeal frowned.

  
"Blame him.”

  
“He needs his space.”

  
“For how long? It's been a month and he's been avoiding me.”

  
“Your friendship has never been easy,”Angeal pointed out. Genesis let out a frustrated sigh.  
It wasn't like Sephiroth hadn't kissed him, because he did kiss back, and even seemed to enjoy it, but there was something in the way. Some nameless thing. He wanted to know what it was, god damn it.

  
Angeal shook his head and clapped his large hand over his friend’s shoulder. “Just give him space, Gen,” he said, smirking. The man was dressed in his 2nd Class uniform, as was Genesis, even though they were mostly off duty. Director Lazard had expressly stated they were to have fun, realizing they were teenagers first and SOLDIER operatives second, but they were also ordered to keep their eyes open. Music fluttered through the air to them, and Genesis closed his eyes against the dying light and smiled; it was his first smile in a long time now—his teenage angst over Sephiroth had consumed him for the better part of this month. Angeal smiled too and began moving toward the road bike he'd been on to get to Genesis.

  
“You can hop on if you like,” he said. Genesis had had a military vehicle drop him off and intended to walk broodily the rest of the way, but with Angeal offering him a thrilling ride through the gravelly terrain, he could not say no. He got behind his childhood friend on the bike and gripped around his strong torso, waiting for him to rev up the engine. As they rode to Juno proper the light had finally faded and there were lanterns in the sky illuminating the city in a soft ethereal glow.Even though it was chilly the people of Junon were in various states of undress, ornamental pieces of clothing more wrapped around them than worn. It looked as though a strong gust of wind might undo their garments. When they arrived, Genesis and Angeal milled about through the city leisurely…until Genesis spotted a head of silver hair in the crowd.

  
“Angeal, let’s split up. Meet me back at the drop off point at zero-oh-oh-oh.” Angeal lifted a perfectly arched black brow but didn't comment.

  
“Yeah, sure,” he said, shrugging and meandering away with his hands in his pocket. He was instantly attracted by a merchant selling flowers and Genesis took off. He was like a man possessed, having seen that hair. Silver shone in the light of the moon only briefly, but Genesis was transfixed. He pushed past the crowds and carefully made his way forward. Finally he was able to grab a slender but powerful wrist. When Sephiroth turned around the sight stunned Genesis. The electricity that caught at that hold of hands jostled him until he realized what Sephiroth was wearing, which was a long black yukata. Its belt was a shining silver. It at once enhanced the young man’s beauty and made him appear younger. His long silver hair was plaited. With the lanterns in the sky, his characteristically green eyes looked more orangey-yellow than green—a cat’s eyes.

  
“Why are you dressed like that?” Genesis breathed. Goddess, he destroys me, he thought.  
“Lord Godo is here,” Sephiroth said simply, voice flat, eyes already bored.

  
“Lord Godo attends the festival?” Genesis asked, shocked.

  
“He wants me to play,” Sephiroth said, taking his hand back from Genesis’s grip.

  
“Play?” Genesis repeated dumbly.

  
“The piano,” Sephiroth stated simply.

  
“You play the piano?”

  
“Don't act so surprised. There's many things you don't know about me,” Sephiroth said.  
Genesis’s eyes went to those graceful hands, swallowing dryly. He could see Masamune strapped to his back, nearly as tall as he was. Rapier was strapped to his back as well. His hand twitched. Sephiroth was just so beautiful he ached. He wanted to fight him, fuck him, make him his.

  
“So where is this little meeting taking place?”

  
“At his tent,” Sephiroth said, “on the outskirts of the city. I was simply blending in,” he shrugged. “Besides, this is how I dressed when he taught me how to fight.”

  
“Lord Godo taught you to fight?”

  
“He presented me with Masamune when I was ten,” he said, “along with President Shinra. In hopes our nations would be in alliance. It worked, temporarily. Lord Godo, however, is a prideful man.” Genesis thought of Sephiroth in Wutai. The Silver Demon of Wutai, he was named. It was strange to think of Sephiroth and Lord Godo being…what, friends? Master and pupil? Hadn’t Sephiroth slaughtered his people to bend Wutai to Shinra’s will? Still, the success of the Battle of Wutai was thought a great success. Sephiroth had spared many lives even if he had killed many. At least, that's what the papers had said at the time. He still remembered that picture of Sephiroth, bloody and beautiful, on the front page.

  
“Can I come listen to you? Play I mean?” Genesis asked softly.

  
“I will have to ask for Lord Godo’s permission. He is a…very private man.”

  
The crowd swelled around them. Laughter rang out. People cried out, vendors cried out. But Genesis was only in tune with this one man. Nothing else mattered.

  
It was then that Genesis realized Sephiroth was moving, weaving through the crowd. His slippered feet moved gracefully, quickly. Genesis struggled to keep up in his clunky Shinra boots. Soon the people began to die away, the crowd thinned out, and there was nothing but He and Sephiroth moving through the lantern-lit city outskirts. An encampment began to make itself noticed and Genesis noted their beautiful simplicity. Sephiroth truly respected the Wutain culture. His apartment seemed to reflect that in its simplicity, the Wutain influence.

  
Sephiroth stood at the flap of the most ornate tent, held together by red silk ties.

  
“Lord Godo, it is General Sephiroth,” he said in a firm but gentle voice. A dark-haired young man in shining curving armor answered, opening the flap. The man asked him a question in the Wutain tongue and Sephiroth answered fluently. The man regarded Genesis and closed the flap back up. Seconds later a man appearing in his forties—perhaps fifties—it was hard to tell, appeared at the flap. The man seemed older and yet ageless at the same time, hair pinned up at the sides with white streaks and flowing down his back raven in color.

  
“Genesis Rhapsodos,” the man said, regarding the young man. Genesis bowed his head.

  
“Lord Godo,” he said, almost a whisper. The man smiled and inclined his head in a bow as well. Inside the tent was decorated in pillows and a tatami mat sat at its center, heated by coals. He ushered Genesis to sit with him, while the man who had come to the flap stood at one end. Another man, similarly armed, stood at the opposite end. The man who had come to the flap had a katana strapped to his back while the other man had a string of kunai strapped to his chest. A girl, looking very young by Genesis’s estimation, rested easily at the tatami.

  
“My daughter, Yuffie Kisaragi,” Lord Godo introduced her. Yuffie seemed to look Genesis up and down as if appraising him and gave him an uneasy lopsided smile.

  
“Sephiroth, are you gonna play?” The girl asked, gesturing at the electronic keyboard in the tent. Sephiroth smiled fondly and bowed his head.

  
“Yes,” he said softly, sitting at the bench next to it elegantly, legs crossed. The yukata spilled about him artfully, shimmering in the low light. He placed his hands on the keys and started to play a somber but beautiful piece. It was slow and delicate, much like Sephiroth, but there was a strength there too. The piece, Sephiroth said, was called “Love and Loss” and he played it from memory. Genesis found that he was stubbornly wiping away tears by the middle of it, feeling like a child, watching as those delicate fingers worked independently of each other with ease, grace, and beauty. He had no idea Sephiroth played so beautifully, had no idea he played at all, and he felt like he didn't belong. In his world. But at the same time, he wondered if Sephiroth had experienced love, had experienced loss. Had Sephiroth had a previous lover? Had he died? Is that why he could not be Genesis’s lover? Questions raced in his mind.

  
At the end of the piece Genesis clapped. Yuffie clapped louder, enthralled. Lord Godo merely nodded, as if knowingly. Sephiroth rested his hands on the piano and looked up, then turned around.

  
“Are you enjoying the festival, Sephiroth? Genesis?” He asked wonderingly.  
“I always enjoy it,” Sephiroth said simply. Genesis dared not wipe his eyes, even though unsged tears were in them, long lashes glittering in the tent’s low light. Sephiroth’s haunting little melody stayed with him. He stood and bowed again, then apologized, saying he must leave.

  
“I…I have to meet a friend. Thank you for letting me stay.” He took his leave, and only after he did, standing outside the tent, did he let his tears fall. It seemed like an enternity after, and he was already walking away, when he felt a hand close over his wrist.

  
Mako sensed Mako. Lover sensed his beloved, and Genesis wept openly.

  
“Stop that,” Sephiroth said softly. Genesis turned to look at him, eyes lighting up the darkness as Sephiroth’s eyes did the same. The melody seemed to continue between them, thrumming low in Genesis’s gut.

  
“Or what?” He asked, all mild threat.

  
“Or I'll have to stop you.”

  
Sephiroth’s fingers felt gentle, even though they could be so brutal. Even though he could be so brutal.

  
“And how do you think you could manage to do that?”

  
Sephiroth was kissing him then, his fingers running up the back of Genesis’s neck. It tasted sad. When they parted the kiss Sephiroth traced Genesis’s lips almost fondly.

  
“I still cannot be your lover.”

  
“Why?” Genesis breathed.

  
“There is so much you don't know about me.”

  
“Then tell me,” Genesis said, moving his face into those hands.

  
“Maybe. One day.”

  
“We could die any day,” Genesis said, hearing the gentle refrain of the piano piece still. Feeling Sephiroth’s hesitation.

  
“You'd grow bored of me,” Sephiroth said seriously. Genesis laughed.

  
“Never. My rival, my friend, my lover,” he said in a barely audible whisper.

  
“You don't take no for an answer,” Sephiroth sighed.

  
“Never,” he breathed and leaned forward to kiss Sephiroth passionately.

  
~xxx~


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which some smut happens

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter is short but full of smut

Kissing Genesis was like kissing pure fire. His first kiss hadn't been with him, not really, but it was the first kiss he'd wanted, that wasn't forced upon him, even though Genesis’s kisses were like that too. It was just…different. He had to admit to himself that his resolve to push the boy away was breaking. But not enough to feel pale every time he was touched, a sick feeling pooling in his stomach, dread blossoming.

“I meant what I said about you getting bored of me,” Sephiroth said softly. 

“And I mean it when I say that will never happen,” Genesis said, pulling Sephiroth toward an outcrop. They kissed as they stumbled their way to where no one would see them, and took turns taking possession of the other. Sephiroth let himself be pressed against a large rock, Genesis moving against him heatedly, sliding his hands inside the soft material of the yukata.

“I want to touch you everywhere,” Genesis breathed. It was only when he realized that Sephiroth was trembling against the rock that he stopped, confusion evident on his face. What had happened? Sephiroth seemed…scared.

“It wasn't my first kiss,” he admitted. He said it almost too low to hear if Genesis wasn't pressed up against him. 

“Who?” Genesis said.

“Are you bored of me already? Your toy is broken. The game is over.” He said this with his hair in his face, looking far away from Genesis.

“You’re not some conquest, damn it,” Genesis growled. He forced Sephiroth to look at him. Something flashed in Sephiroth’s eyes.

“Aren't I?” Sephiroth laughed bitterly. “Aren't you getting off on that?” 

“Shut up,” Genesis growled. “I'm not. I said I liked you and I meant it. You're not my first either.”

“Who?” Sephiroth asked, eyes flashing again. It looked like jealousy.

“Does it matter?” Genesis asked. 

“Then kiss me again and make it not matter,” he said, challenging. Genesis pressed his mouth to Sephiroth’s throat where he felt his pulse. He kissed the white column heatedly, open-mouthed, and sucked, making his way up to his lips again, kissing him. Sephiroth responded with his own kisses and they shared each other's breath. It was everything Genesis had ever imagined. He was now up against the rock outcropping and Sephiroth had him pinned there. Genesis’s fingers undid the plait in his hair and let silver drape around him. 

“Goddess, but I've always wanted you. Touch me,” he groaned. Sephiroth undid the leather belts and zipper and slid his hand deftly inside Genesis’s pants, gripping the hardness he found there. Genesis’s every nerve was on fire. He let out a loud whimper as Sephiroth curled his fingers around his hardness. “Let me touch you too,” he said, sliding his hand into the yukata. Sephiroth didn't stop him then, let him know there was nothing beneath that beautiful garment. He found that the other boy was hard too, and they panted as they both stroked each other.

“I've always wanted you, too,” Sephiroth said in a voice heady with want and need. He used his teeth to tug at the earring in Genesis’s ear. His senses were on fire with Sephiroth just as Sephiroth's senses were on fire with Genesis. There were no losers here, only winners, and the game was tantalizing. 

Sephiroth slicked his fingers with Genesis’s precome and the slighter smaller boy shuddered with involuntary need.

“Make me come,” Genesis said filthily.

“Make me come too,” Sephiroth groaned. They rested their foreheads together and stroked each other off. Genesis was the first to start to tremble.

“I'm going to come,” he breathed. “Keep touching me. Kiss me. Make me yours.”

“I thought you wanted me to get on my knees?” Sephiroth breathed darkly. 

“Oh fuck, yes,” Genesis growled as Sephiroth did just that. He sank down into the dirt and hooked his fingers into both pants and boxer-briefs and dragged them down, his beautiful mouth sliding over Genesis’s trembling flesh. “Goddess,” he breathed, fingers instinctively curling into all that silver hair. He didn't last long with that talented mouth around him, the tongue swirling around the sensitive juncture between the head of his cock and the shaft. Sephiroth looked up at him as he drank down his seed, tongue still laving over that spot. It was almost too much. Genesis’s fingers clenched and then relaxed.  
When he was sated he roughly pulled Sephiroth up by his hair and crushed their mouths together. Sephiroth still had a bit of his come in his mouth and let Genesis taste himself.

“I want to make you come too,” Genesis breathed. He stroked Sephiroth roughly, feeling the weight of his heavy thickness. Sephiroth was big, and it made Genesis heady. 

“I'm close,” Sephiroth groaned. He shuddered when Genesis collected the precome from the tip of his head with a thumb and slicked him up with it. It wasn't long before the silver-haired boy shuddered one final time and came messily over his stomach. Genesis sank to his knees and lapped up every bit of come, cleaning him off. He felt Sephiroth’s hand curling in his hair, holding him there. Genesis laved that big cock with kisses and sucks until he went soft, and then Sephiroth was helping him to his feet. 

“Angeal is waiting for me,” Genesis announced. 

“Better not keep him waiting. I'm going to enjoy some more of the festival before I leave. President Shinra is here, too.” 

“Sephiroth...it wasn't a once only type of thing?”

“See you around,” Sephiroth responded with an enigmatic smile. And then the two boys parted ways. Sephiroth went off in the direction of the floating lanterns while Genesis redid his pants and buckles and headed off toward Angeal’s appointed meeting spot.

“What are you smiling about?” Angeal asked when Genesis couldn't help the shit-eating grin that was plastered to his face.

“Nothing much,” he responded coolly. “I met up with Boy Wonder.”

“Oh really?” Angeal laughed gruffly, arms full of plants of various types. His Gil purse was looking a touch light. "Maybe there's hope for you two idiots after all.” Genesis only smiled back enigmatically.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Almost all pure smut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “I want to fuck you,” Genesis said against Sephiroth's ear.
> 
> “Keep dreaming. It's not going to happen.”

Sephiroth was floating in a mako-infused tank, breathing apparatus spreading his lips wide. He touched his fingers to his lips, remembering the kisses he was paying for.

“You mustn't see that boy,” the shrill voice of the scientist intoned over the radio which pumped into the tank. “I'll have to punish you for your insolence.” Sephiroth shuddered as he felt the mako thrum inside him, the way the scientist stared into his eyes. “He is a lesser beast”. 

“He isn't,” Sephiroth thought, but dared not say. He was taught that everyone was a lesser beast. That he was superior. Hojo walked up to Sephiroth and ran his hand along the glass tube fondly. He'd gotten enough data and started draining the tube. Sephiroth slumped as the tank opened and Hojo held him close. Sephiroth winced, feeling weak, feeling disgusted, the taste of bile in his mouth. 

“My beautiful child,” Hojo whispered, soothingly stroking his hair. Sephiroth was shivering. 

“You mustn't see him,” he repeated. “Don't make me break your plaything.”

“You can't,” Sephiroth whispered softly. 

“I'll make you watch,” he promised. Sephiroth shook his head. 

“Don't, please. I like him…father.”

“I know you do,” he said, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “But he is not from your world.”

“That's what makes him desirable,” Sephiroth said.

“I will take him from you.”

“Please…I love him…”

“It’s because you do that I must take you from him.” 

~xxx~

Sephiroth brushed out his long silver hair, looking down.

“What are you thinking about?” Genesis asked, transfixed by the simple action.

“you're in danger,” he whispered. 

“When am I not in danger? Let me kiss you….you've been so distant.” 

“He knows about you,” he whispered. Genesis pressed against Sephiroth and pinned him to the headboard, taking the horsehair brush from his fingers.

“I wonder what you'd do if I spanked you with this,” he said darkly. Sephiroth's eyes flashed with something dangerous. “But really what I want to do is bend you over your bed and make you cry out.” 

“You'd be disappointed. I'm quiet.” The two boys had been making out on Sephiroth’s bed, the sheets now rumpled. 

“I’d find a way to make your voice come out,” Genesis promised. It was his first time in the silver-haired boy’s bedroom and he was utterly enthralled. Sephiroth’s feet curled deliciously into the covers when he touched him in private places. His hair was everywhere, his cheeks were a dusty rose color. He'd let Genesis press against him, let him hold his wrists down as they kissed. If he wanted to, he’d never let the redhead take control of him so completely. Genesis was getting off on being in this bedroom with Sephiroth beneath him. 

“You don't know what you're doing. He wants to take you from me. He said as much.”

“So what did you tell him?” Genesis asked, fingers curling around Sephiroth's throat. 

“I didn't have to say anything. He already knew. He hooks me up to so many machines he practically reads my thoughts. He detected my increase in sexual hormones.”

“Oh?” Genesis asked, fingers sliding down and into Sephiroth’s plain black pajamas. There was nothing underneath. He briefly wondered if Sephiroth ever wore any underwear. The thought of him in his leathers with nothing beneath them made his blood boil. He wanted to undo the ties of his leather pants and let his cock spring free against his lips, engulf him until he gagged. Seeing Sephiroth here with nothing but his soft black pants made him just as heady. He pulled them down a bit, watched those lips part, and crawled down that lithe body to suck the head of his adversary and friend’s cock into his mouth. He knew what he must look like, tousled hair in his face as his mako blue eyes burned up into Sephiroth's. He heard and felt Sephiroth’s breath hitch, his cock twitching in his mouth.

“Genesis,” Sephiroth breathed. They'd been kissing for what felt like forever. They were both worked up. Genesis felt satisfaction as Sephiroth dug his feet into the covers. His hands explored powerful hips, tracing the V-shape there before wrapping around the base of that thick cock. Genesis was amused that even Sephiroth’s pubic hair was silver. Why wouldn't it be? Had all the experimentation done on him made his hair this color? Suddenly he didn't care. Sephiroth was shuddering under his ministrations. His breathing had picked up. To his credit Sephiroth was right. He was very quiet. This somehow turned Genesis on more, knowing Sephiroth liked something by the way he curled his fingers in Genesis’s hair more, breath hitching. Every little action the silver-haired boy made was etched into Genesis’s memory. He bobbed his head over that thick cock, tracing lines with his tongue up the veiny underside of his dick. Sephiroth tasted so good. He had been freshly showered, smelled of lavender. Was it his shampoo? His soap? He was picturing what he must have looked like in that shower, washing off the clinical smell of Hojo’s laboratory. He deep throated Sephiroth with a practiced action, breathing through his nose, letting silver pubic hair tickle him. Sephiroth wasn't moaning, but he was breathing harder, his head lolling to the side as he watched Genesis with his burning green eyes. When the boy started grasping at the sheets, Genesis let his cock pop out of his mouth and he climbed up his body.

“Let me take you,” he said softly.

“No,” Sephiroth said, pushing Genesis back down. He pressed a finger into Genesis’s mouth and the redhead began sucking greedily. 

“Too bad about that. Have you never let someone do it?”

“I'm not about to tell you that,” Sephiroth breathed. 

“I want to fuck you,” Genesis said against Sephiroth's ear.

“Keep dreaming. It's not going to happen.” He said this even as he snaked his hand into Genesis’s pants at the back and pressed his slicked finger against Genesis’s entrance. “I know you want me to fuck you though. You've wanted me to for a while now.” Genesis gasped as that finger pressed inside him, then ghosted against his prostate, curling deliciously as a second finger entered. It felt uncomfortable without any lube, but also good. Sephiroth had deft fingers, and he found Genesis’s pleasure point easily. 

“You're really going to?” Genesis breathed. “What if I say no?” 

“You're not going to say no. You want me to. You want me to fuck you in my bed. To take you completely.” The baritone of Sephiroth’s voice went straight to Genesis’s crotch. His pants felt uncomfortably tight, especially with that look in his friend’s eyes. Those were eyes of ownership. They said, “you're mine, Rhapsodos.”   
He didn't know when he'd become naked, but he was dimly aware of Sephiroth on top of him now. A third finger was inside of him, and Sephiroth was in so deep that his knuckles were brushing inside of him. He was panting. Sephiroth was breathing less evenly now. Genesis could see desire in his eyes.

“I'm going to take what's mine. Because you're mine, Rhapsodos. You think you can just take me, but I'm not so easily taken.” The challenge made Genesis’s eyes flash and he moved so that Sephiroth’s fingers slid out of him and now he was on top of him again. He was straddling his hips.

The light outside was dying now. The two were illuminated in soft light coming from the window. It was almost always dark, the polluted air thick and heavy. Genesis took Sephiroth's cock and started pumping it, resting it against his entrance and using it to press against him, stretch his entrance a bit. Sephiroth merely watched, nothing escaping his eyes.

“I don't just lay back and let people take me,” Genesis said softly. He was rutting against Sephiroth now. “Do you have any lube? Because you're pretty big, and taking you dry like this is going to hurt.”

“Mmm.” Sephiroth fumbled in the drawer alongside his alarm clock and took out a small vial. Genesis took it and slicked Sephiroth’s cock up with it, pressing against that thick head and letting it slowly disappear into him. Sephiroth hissed softly, biting his lip. Genesis was tight. 

“Have you done this before?” Sephiroth asked.

“Yeah. I know what I'm doing, and how much you're going to like watching me writhe on you..” He sank down onto Sephiroth’s hardness and stayed there for a bit, leaning down to kiss Sephiroth, draw that bottom lip into his mouth and worry at it. When Sephiroth began to impatiently move against Genesis the redhead laughed and began moving over Sephiroth. But it wasn't enough. Sephiroth forcefully rolled them back over, snapping his hips into Genesis as he pinned him down, building a rhythm. Genesis cried out. 

“Yes,” Sephiroth said, snapping his hips again and again, “let me hear you.” Genesis obliged with another throaty cry. 

“Goddess you're big,” Genesis moaned. “Fuck me harder,” he begged, hooking his legs over Sephiroth’s shoulders and pulling him in even deeper. He kissed Sephiroth with ardor, moaning when they started rocking against one another. “Goddess, but I've wanted this so much.”

“You are quite noisy,” Sephiroth growled. “Just how I imagined you would be.” Genesis laughed, a musical noise that made Sephiroth throb inside him. Genesis brought Sephiroth closer with his feet and groaned when Sephiroth turned to kiss up his knee, biting the inside of his thigh with an open mouth. 

“General Sephiroth,” Genesis cried, head rolling back against the sheets. “Just like that…..hnn.” Sephiroth’s eyes flashed with something and he started palming Genesis’s weeping erection between them, bringing him closer to the edge before stopping completely and wrapping his fingers instead around his throat, just at the carotids. Genesis felt all the blood leave his face and pool at his erection, making him throb as his cock bounced against his stomach with every thrust. Just when he was about to pass out, he came between them with a guttural growl. Sephiroth released his throat and snapped his hips even harder. The bed creaked under his ministrations, making Genesis cry out with each rough thrust until he pulled out and pressed his cock against Genesis’s mouth, pumping himself, breathing heavily as he came all over those pink lips. Genesis kissed that cock, licking his lips free of the thick white pearls of Sephiroth’s seed.

“Mine,” Sephiroth groaned.

“Yours,” he answered, fingers all over Sephiroth’s taught back, caressing. 

“Next time, I'm going to take you,” Genesis promised. 

“I doubt it,” the silver-haired warrior laughed.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rough sex is rough. Not much to this chapter, but Sephiroth might be gearing up to start to open up to Genesis. Maybe.

Sephiroth woke in a sweat. The memory relived was too real, the feel of hands all over his body, taking their pleasure, leaving him bereft of control. He frowned, running a hand through his hair, hands shaking. 

It still felt strange to awaken without dark eyes, dark words, dominating power enveloping him. How long had it been? It felt like ages. Suddenly he ached to see Genesis, to erase the memories that warred to engulf him. This desperation, this weakness and powerlessness brought him into a fetal position and he stared up at the ceiling hopelessly before standing up and pacing around his bedroom like a caged animal.

Suddenly he felt ravenous. Before he knew it he was staring in the mirror in the bathroom, brushing out his hair, brushing his teeth, and then was out the door.

He stood outside Genesis’s door, keycard in hand. He swiped in without a second thought. Genesis’s apartment was the same layout, standard for Shinra-issued apartments. He went to Genesis’s bedroom, opening the door with a trembling hand. Blue eyes were already meeting his own, dragged out of sleep. That was the way of SOLDIER, the instincts of war etched into their inner fibers. 

“Sephiroth?” came the sleep-laden redhead’s questioning voice.

“I want you to fuck me,” Sephiroth said without pretense. He stalked at the edge of the bed, undressing hurriedly. It didn't take long, the only articles of clothing he was wearing being a shirt and his sleep pants. Genesis’s eyes went wide and then Sephiroth was beside him in the bed, kissing him deeply and desperately. Make me forget, Sephiroth thought, hand reaching between them to find Genesis’s cock, sleepily coming to life as he cupped him roughly.  
“You said I couldn't,” Genesis started, eyes searching Sephiroth’s. 

“I know what I said,” he growled, his pained expression reaching his eyes. Genesis took Sephiroth’s hand away as he took hold of powerful slender wrists, pinning them to the bed as he rolled onto the boy’s body. “Just do it,” he hissed, looking away.

“Look at me,” Genesis said, sleep finally falling from his voice. He was wide awake now, lust swelling in his chest.

“No,” Sephiroth said, trembling. Genesis frowned and kissed him fiercely, rolling his hips against Sephiroth’s. He was already hard, but Sephiroth wasn't and that terrified him. 

“What's wrong with you?” Genesis whispered. 

“I told you already. Just fuck me,” he hissed. 

“Not if you're not hard,” Genesis said, loosening his grip on Sephiroth’s wrists.

“No!” Sephiroth yelled. “Touch me,” he said, almost begging. Genesis kissed him again, hand going between them to start palming Sephiroth’s cock. “Harder,” he ordered, searching Genesis’s eyes.

“Seriously, Sephiroth. What the fuck is wrong with you?” 

“Everything,” he breathed, leaning up to get leverage, stroking Genesis, preparing him. Genesis’s breath hitched and he reached for Sephiroth’s cock again. He pressed his forehead against Sephiroth’s, marveling in the way his silver hair fanned around his head like a halo. 

“Okay,” Genesis breathed, fingers trailing down against Sephiroth's entrance, pressing his legs apart.

“No,” Sephiroth growled, “Just put it inside me.” His eyes were wet now, and he looked up at Genesis desperately. Genesis reached over to fumble with his drawer, tugging out a vial of lube. “No,” he said again. “Just shove inside me. Please. Genesis, fuck me.”

“It's going to hurt,” Genesis said carefully, looking into Sephiroth’s eyes. 

“I want it to,” Sephiroth said simply. Genesis laughed softly and held Sephiroth down again, ensnaring him in a rough kiss, and pressed himself against the other boy’s entrance. “Do it,” he urged. “Fucking do it already. Hurt me.”

Genesis ground into those wrists hard as he pushed inside Sephiroth dry. It hurt a bit. Sephiroth was so tight he almost forgot to breathe. Sephiroth’s head snapped back and he let out a pained hiss, legs trembling, curling around Genesis and draping themselves around him, heels digging into his backside. Genesis breathed raggedly, and started thrusting into Sephiroth, who only seemed to tighten up more.

“Relax, or I'm going to make you bleed,” he breathed into Sephiroth’s ear. “And I won't be able to move.” Sephiroth let out a ragged breath as he forced himself to relax his muscles. Genesis began thrusting, panting hotly against Sephiroth’s mouth. “Fuck you're tight. Have you even done this before?”

“Yes,” Sephiroth breathed, digging his heels into Genesis’s backside more, his head thrown back against the sheets. “Come on….harder,” he ordered again which made Genesis snap his hips harder, hands moving from his wrists onto Sephiroth’s throat, choking him as he thrusted inside him. Sephiroth’s eyes glowed acid green in the darkness, and he tilted his head back, eyelashes fluttering closed. “Yess,” he hissed, the sound strained. 

“I've always wanted to do this,” Genesis breathed against the boy’s ear, biting into it, sucking harshly as he started pounding into him, encouraged by the way Sephiroth was writhing beneath him now.

“Harder,” Sephiroth hissed. Genesis didn't know whether he meant to choke him harder or to fuck him harder, so he did both, sweat dripping off him as he started pounding in earnest now, fingers brutal against Sephiroth’s throat.

“Why are you letting me?” Genesis nearly hissed.

“Does it matter?” Sephiroth struggled out, rising to meet every harsh thrust.   
Genesis was breathing raggedly now, letting go of Sephiroth's throat to grasp at his shoulders, using them as leverage to really grind and thrust into him, their bodies slamming together wildly. It wouldn't be long before he came, watching Sephiroth’s face full of both anguish and pleasure. It was almost too much. Something about it was haunting, much like the piano piece he played for him. In that tent, it was like he was the only one there, caught up in his feelings. Now they were swelling. 

“Does it feel good?” Genesis asked, concern lacing his voice, but he was no less brutal.

“Yes,” Sephiroth gasped, hands moving down to claw at Genesis’s ass as he moved inside him. “You won't break me. I'm already broken.”

Silence hung heavy then, the only sound their bodies slamming together and of their ragged breaths as they moved together. Genesis felt something slick trail down Sephiroth's thighs and knew he was bleeding, but he didn't stop, dared not stop. They clawed at one another and Sephiroth flipped them over, starting to ride Genesis, his hair pooling onto the redhead’s stomach and swaying wildly as he thrusted roughly above him. Genesis grabbed Sephiroth by the shoulders and pressed him down into the bed on his stomach, thrusting back in, as he had momentarily slid out to change their positions. Now he was grinding Sephiroth’s face into the sheets as he sped toward his release. 

They both came within seconds of one another, panting desperately as if hungry for air. Sephiroth stilled, trembling slightly against the sheets.

Genesis pulled out and immediately reached for Rapier, which was by his bed in its scabbard, and unsheathed it, passing his hand over the runes.

“Don't,” Sephiroth hissed, knowing he was going to pass a Cure spell over him.”I want to feel it.” Then he abruptly turned over, inching away from the wet spot he'd created against them bed, the action a little awkward under Genesis’s weight. 

Sephiroth couldn't look at Genesis, still seeing dark eyes. Then he moved off the bed and dressed again, turning to leave.

“Wait,” Genesis said, holding out his hand. “Come and lie here with me.” 

“No,” Sephiroth said simply, and left.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The past comes to haunt the three friends.

Genesis placed his wrist over his eyes, book forgotten in his hopelessly rumpled sheets, still smelling of Sephiroth. He contemplated cleaning them to lose himself in a menial task, but he simply couldn't…or wouldn't. He wanted to have at least a part of Sephiroth still with him, no matter how trivial it was. Still, his mind couldn't focus on anything but that man. How he'd stormed into his apartment, his heart, literally breaking it when he left just as abruptly. He'd had a part of Sephiroth he never really expected to have, but at the same time he felt like he was holding onto nothingness. Sephiroth was like a ghost, coming into his world unseen, unknown. Nothing else mattered, he realized. He realized what he was using as a bookmark was an old newspaper clipping of the three of them: he, Angeal, and Sephiroth. He was standing close to Angeal, his hand resting on his shoulder. It bespoke their kind of closeness, but Sephiroth….though he was also standing next to them, could have been standing miles away. His eyes were downcast. What was he seeing? His body language was that of helplessness, looking lost in his own reverie. Every picture of him looked lonely. It was then that he realized how lonely the man’s existence was, even with his two best friends.

  
Why did Sephiroth feel the need to distance himself? Genesis wondered. Clearly there was something about his past he didn't know. The way Sephiroth behaved tonight made that very clear. There was so much of Sephiroth that was hidden, yet he had allowed Genesis to see glimpses.

  
Part of him wished he could have just accepted Angeal when he came to him with his feelings. It would have been so easy. They knew each other so intimately. Angeal had been his first kiss, his first everything. His life in Banora had been so lonely, and he often lived vicariously through the other boy. He went to school, while he had been home schooled by the governess who made her way to him every day to teach him about the past, about his future. She was older than him. He still remembered her smell. She was comforting, too, and their relationship had turned into more than just governess and student. He partook of her, too, just like he had of Angeal. It was easy, and it helped ease his loneliness. She had traveled the world teaching students, privileged youths like Genesis. She was worldly and beautiful. But she wasn't Sephiroth. Neither was Angeal.

  
He still remembered the governess fondly. The way her eyes crinkled when he mastered his studies. He was smart—she could see that, and despite their age difference, their relationship was something that comforted him. He had been fourteen when they had their first sexual encounter. The previous summer was when Angeal had expressed his feelings and couldn't really return them. It wasn't that he didn't like Angeal, but he didn't want to hurt him. Still, Angeal had said it wouldn't hurt. What a bad liar his friend had been. The first time they had sex, Angeal had cried. He tried to hide it, but Genesis knew. How could he not? The governess was different. She seemed to understand what they were. He confided in her where he couldn't with Angeal at first. He told her about Sephiroth. How his heart belonged to a boy who didn't even know him. He showed her the letters, Sephiroth's tight small script devoid of any frills, his words beyond the years of just a simple teenager. He liked to believe Sephiroth was schooled much like he was—by someone who was hired to show him a world he had simply dreamed of. But he knew Sephiroth traveled. He had seen evidence of it in the papers—Sephiroth standing next to important people in pictures, looking like a lost old soul trapped in a teenager’s body.

  
The governess helped him with his letters, often composing them with him in his bed, naked. And then she was gone. Genesis’s parents found out about their little trysts and had her fired. Genesis was both relieved and feeling empty once again. He confided in Angeal then, telling him about how they would spend their time pouring over those letters. They lay in the grass beside the Banora White tree, talking about Sephiroth, about the governess, and Angeal kissed him then too. It became a frequent thing that they kissed beside that tree, doing more occasionally. Genesis’s heart felt broken, although Sephiroth was just a phantom to him. Angeal helped dull the ache. He knew what he was doing, knew he was using him, but he didn't care. His heart hurt, and he felt lonely, much like he imagined Sephiroth felt too.

  
Angeal was too understanding. It made him mad often.

  
“Why do you let me use you?” He'd ask, anger in his eyes.

  
“I'm yours to use. My heart belongs to you,” he'd shrugged. This only made Genesis angrier, but he didn't stop using Angeal. He'd often picture a different set of hands touching him, a different mouth claiming him, a different voice telling him that he loved him. His heart felt heavier, more broken for it. He knew Angeal’s heart was broken too. There was nothing in Banora for the both of them, so they both decided to join Shinra together. He knew Angeal was partly joining him to be close to him, but knew his destiny lay at the heart of Shinra too. His father had been a military man, and they often dreamed of SOLDIER because of destiny. Angeal was always one foot out of Banora because of his tie to his sword, his father having died serving men who did not care about honor. But they didn't know that then. They simply dreamed of different lives, both of them tied to Sephiroth, to serving him. Their fates were decided when Sephiroth made the title of General at fifteen. But they would have to wait a year before they joined Shinra, both being a year too young to join. That was when they met Professor Hollander.

  
Hollander was a man wrapped in mystery. Gillian knew him for many years. There seemed to be a secret between them, and Genesis always wondered about it, but dared not bring it up to Angeal. Genesis was always envious of Angeal’s sword. His father had gone broke making it, and it was a sight to behold. The steel was fine, and the handle was wrapped with the finest leather. It had an elegance and savagery to it, just like the man who wielded it, like the man Angeal was becoming.

  
It wasn't that Genesis didn't like Angeal. He was certainly attracted to him, certainly jealous of his easy grace despite being a large young man. He was powerful, his muscles came easy to him, where Genesis’s did not. Ever since he was small, he was a lithe form, and his muscles did not come easy. It was only after the mako injections started that they began to fill out, whereas Angeal was muscled from the start. He often did hard labor, planting and tilling land to help Gillian pay for the mortgage on their simple little home. Genesis loved Gillian like a mother. Her home cooking was always made by her hearthstone, and she was easy to love too, but she didn't come without her secrets.

  
Hollander started injecting them with mako a year early before they joined the military under the pretense of a bridge program. He was in direct competition of Professor Hojo, who normally oversaw the mako injections of SOLDIER operatives, and they were no SOLDIER, but Hollander stated that they were going to be. They would be admitted to Third Class directly when the time came. Just like Sephiroth had been.

  
Mako changed Genesis’s eyes from a grey-blue to the color of the sky. Angeal, who had stormy grey-brown eyes, changed to the color of stormy blue skies. If it was at all possible, he became even more muscled. Genesis, for his part, was still lithe, but he had power to his form too. He lost any baby fat he had, his cherub cheeks becoming lined cheekbones. If it was possible, Angeal loved him more. And he still only craved that one man who was unattainable, but who was becoming more tangible.

  
Genesis remembered the first time he met Sephiroth in person. They were still fifteen. Sephiroth was the youngest member of SOLDIER then, the youngest General in the history of Shinra. He had already won the war in Wutai. Genesis had grown since the mako injections, and was very near Sephiroth’s height. Angeal was taller than the both of them. Mako made everything easier but the weight of Genesis’s poor heart. He expected it was the same for Angeal, who often looked at him longingly.

  
“Your eyes are lovely like this,” he remembered him commenting when they had turned. Genesis had smiled and repeated the sentiment about Angeal’s eyes as well. He really did have lovely eyes, even before the mako, and hoped that one day someone would look into those stormy eyes and claim them, tame those rolling oceans for him.

  
He remembered when he first saw Sephiroth’s eyes up close. No one in SOLDIER had eyes that color. No one had grey hair like that. He was one of a kind, so beautiful it hurt Genesis’s heart. His beauty was otherworldly, making Genesis feel plain and ugly in comparison.   
“Don't worry,” Angeal had whispered. “You look beautiful together. Two halves to one whole. Fire and ice,” he'd said. Genesis almost didn't believe it. He'd grown up feeling like he didn't belong in Banora. He often felt like he didn't even belong to his parents, who looked nothing like him. They were older than Gillian, and he often suspected he was adopted. It explained a lot, at least. His mother wasn't The slightest bit maternal, often cold. Though she was beautiful, there was a haughtiness about her, and her eyes were grey. His father’s eyes were brown. They made some excuse that the grandfather Genesis never knew nor had any pictures of had had blue eyes. It was easier to think of himself as adopted, as he had no love or attachment to his parents.

  
Sephiroth was accompanied by Hojo when they met, whereas the two others were accompanied by Hollander. Hollander and Hojo were completely different scientists. Hollander treated the two boys as wards, whereas Hojo was cold and distant with Sephiroth, but obviously possessive. He'd had his hand against the small of Sephiroth's back, and though he was shorter than the teen, there was some resemblance. High cheekbones, shining black hair, and dark eyes glittered behind the scientists’s wire-rimmed glasses. Hojo would have been handsome if he wasn't so sallow, so chronically sleep-deprived. Genesis wondered if Sephiroth would have had black hair if he hadn't had mako injections since birth. Or at least, that was the rumor—that he'd been born in a mako tube, or at the very least placed there shortly thereafter.

  
Sephiroth wasn't an easy man to meet—he was a boy really, like them, and he was taciturn. Hollander and Hojo put them to swords almost immediately. They met like that the first few times before they were put to lessons together. Genesis had been eager to try out Rapier. His father had had it made by a master weapons maker in Mideel. The man was a former member of SOLDIER, someone well-versed in the art of Materia. Rapier had ancient runes running down its red blade, Genesis’s favorite color. It was rich in the abundance of fire Materia, and Genesis found that he could inately conjure those runes to wield fire without real Materia being slotted in the weapon. It was said that Sephiroth had no Materia attached to his sword, that he could just conjure without it. That he shared this ability with Sephiroth, even with just one spell, was something that made Genesis feel special. As for Angeal, he was woefully inadequate with Materia, but he made up for it by being very well-versed in the art of sword fighting. He had had a basic sword given to him by Shinra, claiming he did not want to rust his father’s weapon, though he always carried it.

  
Genesis didn't know how long he was ruminating on the past until the light of dawn was streaming through his window. There was a buzz at his door and he rose to dress in his pajama pants and silk dressing gown before opening the door. There stood Angeal, waiting patiently.

  
“I'm sorry it's so early. I only wanted to know how you were doing,” Angeal said softly. “It's been a few days since I've seen you.”

  
Genesis smiled warmly and allowed the man in.

  
“I'm fine,” he lied.

  
“Bullshit. I know you saw Sephiroth the other day and now you're brooding in your apartment. What's happened?”

  
“Everything,” Genesis breathed, allowing Angeal to walk passed him into the living room.   
“Well, start from the beginning.”

  
Genesis ran his hand into his hair and looked lost for a moment before he began. “I saw Sephiroth at the festival, and we tore at each other like animals. We kissed, we did more….but he left me. Then I saw him the other day and we had sex. Just before he was here, too, and he….he let me have sex with him, but it was like he was imagining someone different.” He almost felt guilty admitting that last part, knowing how Angeal might feel about it. They hadn't kissed or had sex since they made it to Midgar, but there was still a world of tension between them. Angeal was easy to go back to, but he didn't want to do that, not with Sephiroth in their lives.

  
“I see,” Angeal sighed. “Is there another?"

  
“I doubt it’s current. I think it's someone he used to be with. He admitted that Hojo knows about us and is not too thrilled, to put it mildly. He wants me dead or something.”

  
“Or something,” Angeal repeated, eyebrow raised. “You'd better be careful.”

  
“I know,” he commented. “But a part of me doesn't care. As long as Sephiroth doesn't care.”

  
“Does he truly not care about your wellbeing?” Angeal questioned. “That doesn't sound like Sephiroth. Though your friendship isn't easy, it's clear to anyone who can see past the rivalry that he does care. He cares about both of us. We’re his only friends. He loses weight every time we go on long missions.”

  
“I know,” Genesis said carefully. “He tried to warn me. He said…well I got the impression someone he cared for was taken from him by Hojo. There was Gast. He died because of Hojo. Do you think it was him?”

  
“You think Sephiroth was lovers with a man twice his age?” Angeal asked incredulously. Genesis shrugged.

  
“He claims they were friends. I just don't know who else it could be. But Angeal, I think he was raped.”

  
“Raped?” Angeal asked, his voice incredulous again.

  
“The way he was…you'd have to have experienced it. He promised me he was broken, and that I'd never take him. But there he was, telling me to just fuck him without any lubrication, and he even bled, he was so tight. He just…he told me he wanted it to hurt and he refused to let me cure him after.”

  
“That's strange,” Angeal admitted. “Did you really take him like that? Without any lube, making him hurt?”

  
“He wanted it. He wasn't hard at first, but then he was, and he seemed to want it very badly. Like I was cleansing him of the past. But also repeating it.”  
“Huh. Strange. Did you enjoy it?”

  
“Half yes, half no. I didn't like being imagined as someone different. But it was my name on his lips, so he was present.”

  
Angeal only looked at him sadly. Of course he understood. He had been there, and probably still was in love with Genesis. It made something clench in Genesis’s belly, the way Angeal looked at him.

  
“Are you happy?” Angeal asked. “That you have something physical with Sephiroth finally?” It was a question which had no easy answer. Angeal was supposed to be easy. This felt like anything but.

  
“I wish I was happy. Instead I'm sad.”

  
“I see,” Angeal sighed. “Does he know you have feelings for him?”

  
“Yes. I told him. That first night, when we were playing chess. I told him then. We kissed. He kissed me. He said nothing. He's still said not much. Just that he wants me. But dies he really?”

  
“I wonder. You two have always been like a storm, passing in the night, leaving destruction in the morning for me to clean up.”

  
“I'm sorry,” Genesis said, bowing his head. “I know it's not easy for you. Seeing us like this.”  
“I wish he'd just see your heart, how it breaks for him.”

  
“You wish I'd see how your heart breaks for me, too,” Genesis said. “How easy it'd be. But I never wanted easy. I'm…a terrible friend.”

  
“You're not,” Angeal sighed. “I don't hold it against you that you love another. I did…at first. But I've grown.”

  
“You did?” Genesis asked, surprised, though really he shouldn't have been.

  
“It always hurt, seeing you pine for someone else. But I'm passed that now. I've come to believe that love is just not meant for me, that my work, my destiny is in my honor.”

  
“Oh Angeal,” Genesis sighed. “My dear Angeal…don't say such things. There is no hate, only joy…for you are beloved by the goddess. Hero of Dawn, Healer of Worlds….”

  
“Loveless again?” Angeal asked fondly.

  
“You truly are beloved by the goddess. Be patient, friend.”

  
“My legendary patience grows thin,” Angeal admitted wanly. Genesis only smiled sadly.   
“You'll find someone perfect for you….just wait.”

  
“Oh Genesis, but I already have. You see that, don't you?”

  
Genesis sighed and stood, leaving Angeal to dress in his room in his uniform. Angeal was already in his Second Class uniform.

  
“Let’s go spar, friend, it will take some of your pain away.”

  
“And yours,” Angeal added.

  
The two friends left the apartment and went to level 49, hoping their tiredness would leave their bones and lighten their hearts a bit. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sephiroth reveals his past and his worries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I know I'm manipulating the timeline of the game a bit, but I hope you'll forgive me. The timeline is fuzzy anyways. Anyways, enjoy. There's some fluff at the end. Also, I know Firion is supposed to have white hair, but it's just a name I chose. I liked it. The two have no similarities except in the name. Also, to make things clear, Sephiroth doesn't know Ilfalna and Gast's child made it out alive. Hojo never told him.

Sephiroth was throwing himself into work again. It had been hours since he told his secretary to leave him alone, and he was getting hungry, but it didn't matter. All that mattered was the files spread before him. But a few hours in and he was rapidly growing more restless, more unfocused. It was then that he took out his keys and opened the drawer in his desk, taking out a fat stack of letters that smelled like apples. They still retained their smell after years hiding in his drawer. It was Genesis’s scent, always a hint of cinnamon. In the stack he'd added a few pictures of the three of them, and thumbed through them now. There was the time Genesis had made him a Banora White apple pie, affectionately named Dumb Apple Pie. Angeal had been the photographer. They both looked a little uncomfortable. Genesis in his apron with his Shinra issued sleeveless turtleneck sweater, and Sephiroth in his customary white shirt and black pants. Sephiroth wasn't looking at the camera, his hair swept up in a long ponytail. Genesis was beaming, proud, arms wrapped around Sephiroth’s waist. He touched the photograph warmly and tucked it back into the stack. Next was a photograph of Genesis and Sephiroth standing side by side holding their weapons that Angeal had taken. They were nearly the same height back to back, their weapons jutting out from their hands expertly, touching the floor. The light of the soft sky was behind them, illuminating them in a soft bluish yellow hue. It was just dawn, he remembered. Sephiroth’s expression was blank, whereas Genesis’s was something more—almost sad.

Sephiroth studied all the photographs and then tucked them back into the pile, attending to the letters next. In the pile was a drawing Genesis had sent him of him. He supposed the inspiration came from a clipping of himself from some story in the papers, but there was an intimacy about it. Genesis was good with watercolor, which this picture was. It was a cropped picture of his face half in shadows and his eyes were slightly downcast. He'd kept it, as he kept all of the things Genesis sent him. His letters were sealed with red wax, an elegant R stamped into the wax. He traced one of those R’s with his fingers now as he read a letter. Genesis’s script was lovely and well-practiced, owing to the fact that he liked delicate fine things. He'd never seen Genesis as some self-indulgent rich kid, though he was probably just that in the beginning. There was something special to him even then. He was a friend. Their correspondence mattered. He wasn't just some fan, though he was a fan.

Sephiroth set the letters aside and dug in the drawer for another stack of letters. These were from Professor Gast, and counted as just as important, if not moreso. In it was the only picture of he and his mentor and teacher. He was a child. He had less contact with the man when he left Shinra, but they continued to write letters to one another, and Sephiroth visited him when he was able. He'd met Ilfalna, a woman he had no idea about, then. Something in him had snapped a bit at seeing the only man who was ever nice to him with someone else. It crushed him in ways he was barely cognizant at that time of even knowing. He knew more now. He was in love with his Professor, that scientist who worked under Professor Hojo. He only became aware of it when he saw Ilfalna, her perfect demure beauty. She was everything he was not. She was developed, a woman, and Gast’s age. He doubted Gast knew anything about his feelings, and was never willing to tell him. He died before he was able to truly formalize his love, merely thinking it an admiration before then. How cruel Hojo could be. He'd killed Gast, taking their baby. A baby Sephiroth had never known about until he came to see that woman with him. Of course Gast wanted her. He could make a child with her, and she wasn't just some boy he took pity on. There was no pity in their love.

  
Part of Sephiroth was relieved Ilfalna had died with him, believing the child had been killed as well. He never cared to ask Professor Hojo about the details. He just heard from his cruel lips that they were all gone, just like that.

“See what happens when you defy me,” Hojo had told him. It was a very real threat. A threat he knew to come to fruition when he was old enough to truly feel the scientist’s wrath.

  
He was thirteen when he met him. He was dark-haired and dark-eyed, one of Hojo’s scientists. He was much older, though he never knew his age. He'd taken an interest in Sephiroth since his birth, watching him grow up. He never knew his feelings until one night in the lab. Hojo was away on an important business matter and left his care to the man. He was strapped to a slab, his silver hair bathed in the sickly green of the mako tubes. The man was above him. He was helpless, drugged up with some powerful cocktail Hojo had created to keep Sephiroth quiet and docile, and the man had plans for him.

It wasn't really rape, but it wasn't really consent, either. Sephiroth knew him to be one of the kinder scientists. He'd always given him a cocktail to go to sleep after the labs, which Sephiroth knew Hojo would be against. He only ever did it in secret, pressing the small vial into Sephiroth’s hands when he could get away with it. He'd also given him a small stuffed moogle for one of his birthdays, which Sephiroth kept in his meager room in the labs until it was taken away from him by Hojo.

It wasn't really rape in the sense that Sephiroth accepted it, but it was in the sense that he had no power to truly stop it. Even with the man unbinding him, he knew he could do little to reciprocate.

“I want to show you something,” the man had said. His name was Firion, and his eyes were a warm chocolate color.

“I'm tired,” Sephiroth had said wearily. “Will you give me a vial?”

“Soon. I want to show you something first. Will you kiss me?” He asked softly. Sephiroth blinked in surprise.

“Kiss you?” He repeated.

“You've never been with anyone. Don't you want to know what it's like?” He asked.

“I've only wanted to ever be with Gast,” he admitted. “But he's gone now,” he said sadly.  
“Did you want to kiss him?” He asked.

“Yes,” Sephiroth breathed.

“Gast wasn't interested in you, though, was he? He had Ilfalna. I can show you what it's like. Don't you like me?”

“You're my friend, aren't you?” Sephiroth asked. He truly believed that, though he had no real friends. Firion was the closest thing he had, but he was older. Firion guided him up on the slab and steadied him. He was feeling woozy from the effect of the drugs, from the blood typed taken to test him.

“We’re friends,” Firion affirmed, smiling. His eyes glittered in the ethereal light of the mako chambers. “So let me kiss you. You're a beautiful boy. So beautiful.” Sephiroth had blushed a bit, hiding behind his hair. The man had moved it aside and petted it, closing his lips to Sephiroth’s. It wasn't a chaste or even sweet kiss. It was demanding. Sephiroth was in over his head.

“I don't know,” Sephiroth said breathlessly after the slip of tongue left him terrified and confused. “What if Hojo finds out?”

“He won't,” Firion promised. “He entrusted you to me. Remember?”

“Yes, but I don't know if I want to kiss you,” Sephiroth said almost too low.

“Did you hate it so much?” Firion asked.

“I don't know. I've never kissed anyone.” He was trembling slightly.

“I can show you pleasure, sweet boy,” he promised, edging closer on the hard surface of the slab. His knees were touching Sephiroth, he was so close. He took off his white coat and folded it neatly, placing it beside him, and turned back to Sephiroth. “Let me show you what it's like.”

“I don't know,” Sephiroth said again dumbly. His fingers were numb, and he crumpled against Firion’s arms, head lolling a bit, “I feel so weak…”

“Sweet boy, you have so much power, but you're still so innocent. Let me take some of that innocence away.” He touched Sephiroth’s face, gently pressing a finger inside those almost slack lips. “Suck…I want you to feel pleasure, not pain.”

Sephiroth looked at him with wet eyes, not knowing how to stop him. Suddenly he didn't care, and sucked on those fingers offered to him.

“That's it,” Firion encouraged. “You really are a beautiful little boy. You should know pleasure. You've been given so much pain.” Firion knew what he was like after the labs. Bandaged, broken, spirit flagging, heart heavy in his chest. Hojo could be so cruel. Firion knew he got off on it, making his little experiment suffer. He took his fingers out of Sephiroth's mouth and caressed his naked teenaged body. Sephiroth had never been embarrassed about his nudity in the labs until now, when Firion was pressing his wet fingers inside of Sephiroth's body after pressing his legs apart. Sephiroth shuddered, body clenching unconsciously.

“Shh, relax or it will hurt,” he said. Sephiroth strained to relax but the fingers felt like an invasion. Firion swallowed his cries with another kiss, forcefully shoving his tongue inside that hot little panting mouth.

“It hurts,” Sephiroth finally said after Firion released him from the kiss.

“It won't soon,” he said, brushing two fingers inside him, finding his pleasure point easily. Sephiroth shuddered. It did start to feel good.

“What is that?” Sephiroth asked, gasping.

“There's a point inside every man that makes him shudder with desire. I'm rubbing that spot now,” he said softly, pressing against his sweet spot more insistently. Sephiroth cried out, head lolling on the man’s shoulder.

“It doesn't hurt anymore,” Sephiroth wondered aloud.

“Do you want more?” The man asked, stroking Sephiroth’s hair.

“I don’t know,” Sephiroth said, tears forming in his eyes. This was wrong. He knew it, but could do nothing. Firion wrapped his fingers around Sephiroth's cock, finding it to be half-hard.

“You do know,” he breathed, pumping it slowly.

“Ohh,” Sephiroth breathed. He'd only ever touched himself for Hojo when he tested his semen. That felt wrong too. But this felt good, someone else’s hand on him like that. More tears spilled from his eyes and Firion lapped them up, jerking him off to full hardness and using his precome to lubricate the motions. Sephiroth felt himself getting close with those fingers inside him and that hand on his cock.

“See? You're trembling with need,” Firion purred, adding a third finger, brushing that spot inside him more directly. Sephiroth came with a little cry, shameful of it. Firion leaned down on his lap, holding his cock tilted up to lap up the come. Then he kissed Sephiroth again. He'd sent him back to his room with a vial of his sleep potion then, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

  
And so it went. Firion took him when he was especially exhausted one evening when Hojo was away. It had hurt. Firion was larger than he was, though he had no real idea of what was large or small. Looking back on it, the man had been larger than average, and he hadn't used lube. He'd just spit into his hand, onto his cock as he pounded into the young silver-haired youth. Sephiroth had touched himself shamefully then, coming between their trapped bellies on his cot in the small dark room which counted as his.

“You’re mine now,” Firion told him and pressed a sleep potion into his awaiting palms. Sephiroth had a nightmare that night that Hojo had found out. It wasn't long before that nightmare became a reality. Hojo had certainly found out, and he was furious.

“You raped my boy!” He'd shouted in the lab. It was after hours and the only three present were him, Sephiroth, and Firion. But suddenly there was a Turk present and armed and he had dragged Firion away. Sephiroth never saw him again. He assumed he was dead.  
“My precious child,” Hojo soothed. “He’ll never hurt you again.”

But Sephiroth wasn't hurt. Not really. Not until Firion was dead.

It hurt him to remember Firion. There was nobody kind after him, and Hojo never let him be cared by one of the scientists again. There were no sleep potions. Only pain.  
Until he met Genesis.  
Did he love Firion? He didn't know. Not really. But he was at least some reprieve from the constant pain Hojo endured on him.

  
Now he was experiencing a different pain. The pain of knowing Hojo might snatch Genesis from him too.

Sephiroth sighed and conceded he needed some sleep and something to eat and turned off his computer, put his letters and past away, and stood.

An insistent knock came at his door then. He froze. “I told you I didn't want to be bothered,” Sephiroth said wearily. But then Genesis was coming through the door, leaning against it when it was closed.

“You can't hide from me forever,” Genesis said.

“Genesis…”

“Don't. You can't just come to me and demand things then leave me. That's not how this works.”

“I didn't intend to…”

“What? Come and make me hurt you then leave? Why, Sephiroth?”

“I don't deserve anything better,” Sephiroth responded earnestly.

“You do. I...can't you see that I love you?” Genesis was startled by his own admission, but it was truthful. He didn't even know it until it escaped his lips.

“Can't you see that everyone I love dies?” Sephiroth asked honestly. Genesis blinked slowly.  
“You love me?” He asked slowly.

“Ah, you would focus on that,” Sephiroth laughed bitterly. He sat back at his desk, away from Genesis. “You should leave. I told you I cannot be your lover, and I meant it.”

“Sephiroth,” Genesis breathed. “I won't stop loving you just because you ask me not to.”

“You cannot,” Sephiroth said woodenly, gripping the hand rests on his office chair. Genesis spun him around to face him in the chair and went on his knees in front of him.

“Let me,” Genesis begged. He never begged, but Sephiroth was driving him to madness.

“Don't, “ Sephiroth said carefully, eyes wet now. “He’ll kill you too.”

“Let him try,” Genesis said, leaning up to kiss Sephiroth. “I'm not so easy to get rid of.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some pain and some fluff.

Sephiroth had left his office in a haze. The fresh memory of the redhead on his lap making him forget his basic hunger for a more carnal hunger sang in his veins. He'd bent Genesis over the desk and ground into him, black leather fitted against those slim hips, pumping inside him. It was heady.  
“I love you,” Genesis had whispered when they were done. “Please tell me you love me too,” he'd breathed.

“I…I don't know if I can,” Sephiroth responded, tucking himself back in, looking at the uninteresting ceiling, anything but that soft blue gaze looking over a delicate shoulder. He didn't feel worthy of love, anything that might be taken away from him.  
“I'm not going anywhere,” Genesis promised. But he knew neither of them knew what the future held. 

“I have to go to the lab,” he'd whispered. He'd have to forget a meal for now. What he had coming to him was pain traded for the pleasure of having Genesis. It was always the way. Anything pleasurable for him was ripped from him. 

“Such a good boy,” Hojo was saying now. He'd barely remembered coming into the lab. The monsters he found there weren't as scary as the man before him. He shackled him, restraining him at his neck, hands, and feet. Pumped drugs into his system and made him bleed. He felt it drain from him, replaced by stinging mako sluggishly making its way into his system. 

He thought about Genesis’s hands on him then, but they turned to claws. Tentacles ravaged his mouth and made their way into his throat, gagging him with their wet heaviness. The monster was inside him, pressing its way inside his body. Its cool body slick with dripping terror made him bleed, sapping his energy.

He woke in a cold sweat.

“General, sir, you had to be intubated. Don't fight the ventilator.” He felt weakness spread through his body, hazy vision swimming. “Don't fight the drugs either. You need your rest.”

What had Hojo done?

“Such a good boy,” he heard Hojo breathe in his ear. Then it became Genesis’s voice, dripping with acid. He felt inverted, felt like he was floating in a mako chamber, his lips spread wide and a slimy wetness down his throat.

“Don't fight it,” came Genesis’s voice.

Machines beeped wildly and his heart slowed.

Was this death? 

“Come to me,” a woman's voice called, pressing at the base of his skull. He felt icy fingers invade his body from all directions, pulling him apart. 

“Get the crash cart!” A shrill voice called and his vision dimmed at the edges. He felt and saw a green light pulsing all around him. 

“Come to me,” the silken female voice said again. Pale blond hair swept across his forearm. 

“I love you,” Genesis was saying.

“Don't let him die!” He heard Hojo hiss cruelly. 

Then darkness swallowed him, and the cool green light made him swim.

“It's not your turn yet,” the female voice said. 

Then the light faded and he felt himself slam back into his body with an electric jolt. Darkness enveloped him from everywhere. 

Time passed. That he knew. For a while he felt weightless, now he felt like a weight was sitting on his chest. Wetness pooled at his throat that felt like tears and he worked to move his lips. They were free of any apparatus and he found his voice rough.

“Where am I?” He whispered harshly.

“You're in the infirmary,” a sleepy voice told him. “It's been a week. A week since you died.”  
“I died?” Sephiroth asked impassively. 

“You were in a coma. I thought….I thought you'd be gone forever.” 

It was Genesis above him, pressed against his chest. Monitors beeped in his ears steadily and he realized he was hooked to a screen that flashed his lifeline. 

“Don't leave me like that again,” he whispered. 

“What happened?” He asked hoarsely, licking his lips.

“Hojo killed you. He literally killed you. They had to bring you back. They shocked you a few times. Your heart stopped beating.”

“Why?” He breathed. Outside, cool light entered the hospital room. 

“I don't know. He was doing some sort of experiment. That's all the scientists would tell me.”   
Sephiroth remembered the tentacles, their invasion of his body. He stiffened. Had it been real? He remembered Hojo pumping him full of mako and then the cruel tentacles. Was he being subjected to monsters again? Had Hojo tried to make it mate with him? Or was it just cruel death that had made him hallucinate, made all the horrors of that lab become real to him? 

Whatever the cause, he was still alive and Genesis was there, pressed against him.   
“Don't leave me,” he whispered softly, kissing the side of his face gently. Sephiroth took his fingers and brushed them into short red hair. 

“I won't.”

“I love you,” he whispered softly. “I meant it.”

“I know,” Sephiroth breathed.

Genesis stayed with him until he was discharged and then went home with him. He'd set to work pressing his General into freshly laundered sheets and then made him some soup—simple chicken soup that would restore him somewhat. He'd lost some weight in the infirmary and he intended to nurse him back to health. 

“Why are you doing this?” Sephiroth asked carefully.

“I need you better so I can kick the living crap out of you for trying to leave me,” Genesis affirmed. Sephiroth smiled and sank into the sheets. He was never cared for like this, not since he was little and Gast had tucked him into his sheets on his little cot, bringing him hot soup like Genesis was doing. It made his heart swell.

“I...thank you, Genesis.” This man, his rival, his number one fan, his second-in-command, his lover, was all he ever needed. He wasn't sure what had brought him this gift, but he wasn't about to waste it. He'd been so foolish to push him away. Maybe he would simply accept him now, for what it was on face value. He'd said he'd loved him, and he knew he meant it. He knew in his heart than he loved him too. 

“Here you go,” Genesis said, bringing him a steaming bowl and helping Sephiroth sit up. He winced, feeling his head pound. He hadn't had a meal in what felt like forever and he accepted it willingly, scooping up the noodles with the proffered chop sticks and slurping them down hungrily. Genesis was watching him curiously.

“I can get used to this. You serving me in bed.” Sephiroth’s eyes glittered mischievously.

“Don’t get to used to it,” he laughed.

“How can I not? This is part of the game too. You loving me, serving me.” 

“The game is momentarily on hold while you recuperate,” Genesis promised.

“Then it will fully resume with me bending you over my knees,” Sephiroth promised in equal measure.


	10. Nothing Else Matters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Almost pure smut.

Genesis knew Sephiroth was feeling much better when he was throwing himself into his work again. He'd accepted a mission and was gone for a week. Part of him wondered if he was happy to escape Midgar and all its oppressiveness for the time being. Still, he found himself missing his silver-haired lover, awaiting his return eagerly. 

He'd confided in Angeal the new development in their relationship, and the raven-haired man had stated that he was happy for him. 

Sephiroth had said in a roundabout way that he loved him too. He was so happy, but also scared knowing what Hojo had done to him, what it meant.

Hollander had called him to the labs for his usual mako injection but he didn't care. Somehow knowing his feelings were reciprocated made everything lighter, even his most hated of tasks.   
“That's strange,” the doctor-turned-scientist hummed when he read back the results of his blood tests. “Your mako levels are unusually high today.”

“I have been feeling rather aggressive,” Genesis admitted. “What does it mean?” 

“You have a bit of mako poisoning,” the scientist said, “but it's not an especially bad case. We’ll skip the injection for now. I'll see you in a week, unless you start to have symptoms.”

“I feel fine,” Genesis said, “better than fine.”

But that night he woke up from an especially bad nightmare. Usually when that happened he'd turn to Angeal, but he suddenly felt like he didn't want to burden his friend. He'd looked sick when he told him about Sephiroth. He was at the infirmary too when Sephiroth wasn't feeling well, and he went from being scared for his friend’s life to something else at the mention that Genesis had a new lover. He wanted to give his friend time to be alone. Still, he was shaking, and Sephiroth wasn't due back for another few days. He considered going to Hollander to ask for a sedative, but he was always so wary of the man. 

In his nightmare his arms had been outstretched and he'd been imploring to his goddess, his Gaia, and she had denied him. Her eyes closed and cold wind swept him away. In it, Sephiroth was angry and beautiful, telling him he would rot. He'd slapped his hands away and denied him his love. 

He was about to get dressed to go train in the night to assuage his racing mind when he heard his front door woosh open. 

“I came back early,” Sephiroth was saying as he stood at the foot of Genesis’s bed, undressing swiftly. 

“You're here,” Genesis said, throat working to swallow the hard lump there. He accepted Sephiroth into his bed and pulled at him with insistent hands, helping him shed the rest of his clothes. 

“What's wrong with you?” Sephiroth asked, noticing that he was flushed and sweaty. He pulled off a leather glove and pressed the back of his hand to Genesis’s forehead. “You're burning up.”

“I had a nightmare. The goddess, she…turned away from me. You turned away from me. I was utterly lonely. There was darkness, I was alone.”

“I'm here now,” Sephiroth whispered, dragging his lips across Genesis’s heated ones. “what's happened?”

“Mako sickness. Mild case. I was able to forgo my treatment today, but….I feel so strange.”

“Perhaps it's not as mild as you make it out to be,” Sephiroth said softly. “We should get you to Hollander.”

“I'd rather stay here with you,” Genesis pressed, kissing Sephiroth feverishly. He pulled at Sephiroth, forcing him closer. They looked at one another, Sephiroth’s green eyes boring into Genesis’s blue eyes, and they shared shaky breaths. “I'm glad you're safe.”

“Why wouldn't I be?” Sephiroth asked mildly.

“I almost lost you,” Genesis sighed. “And then your stupid ass decides to go on a mission. You were out there risking your life again without so much as a thought about me.”

“I thought of you,” Sephiroth promised. “It's why I came back early. To finish what we started. Genesis…this isn't easy for me.”

“It doesn't have to be. Our friendship was never easy. I'm the jealous type. I always wanted to be you, be with you, wipe that smugness off your face, show you who I really am. You were always the hero, but I wanted to be the hero too.”

“I'm sure there is room in the game for two heroes,” Sephiroth said softly. “It doesn't have to be complicated.”

“But it's always been complicated, can't you see that? You can't even admit to me without any pretenses that you love me too.” 

“You're right. It's complicated. I…I haven't had it easy. I'm scared that if I admit it, something bad will happen.”

“I'm scared something bad will happen, too,” Genesis admitted. “But I can't deny my feelings. I love you with everything I have to give.”

“And I don't have much to give anymore,” Sephiroth said sadly. “I told you, I'm broken.”

“I’ve always loved what I could not have,” Genesis said. “Let me love your brokenness.”

“Is it any wonder that Hojo almost succeeds in killing me when we start to admit to each other what we are to one another? I think not. He doesn't want to see me happy.”  
“And you see yourself happy with me?” Genesis asked hopefully.

“The truth is that I do not know,” Sephiroth said softly. Genesis came closer and ran his fingers through the silver of Sephiroth’s hair.

“I can't allow you to be so sad. Let me taste your sadness, give you a slice of heaven,” Genesis said.

“I've only ever known sadness,” Sephiroth admitted, but he sighed into the hand in his hair, moaning softly when Genesis kissed him full on the mouth, drew their tongues together. Genesis slept naked, so he slipped the covers off and pressed into Sephiroth, letting him feel his nakedness.

“Make love to me,” Genesis whispered, tugging Sephiroth close by his hair. 

Sephiroth memorized the taste of Genesis with his tongue, pressing the slightly smaller teen down into the bed and claiming his lips over and over, insistently kissing him, pouring his desperation and need into every lock of their lips until they were breathless. He felt trust and love in those earnest blue eyes, answering with his own trust. In his fever, it almost felt too much to Genesis’s poor heart, who was opening himself up to Sephiroth. 

Sephiroth gently pressed Genesis’s knees apart and slowly kissed down his chest, his stomach, trailing those kisses to his cock, which had sprang to life the second they started kissing. He engulfed it into the heat of his wet mouth and sucked languidly, taking it to the root and pressing his hot tongue against the sensitive head of his cock. Genesis whimpered, tugging on Sephiroth’s hair. 

“Inside me,” Genesis begged, thighs quivering. “I need you. I need you to tell me it's going to be all right,” he said, sucking in breaths. Sephiroth popped his mouth off of Genesis and slowly laved his tongue behind his balls to his quivering entrance, sticking his tongue straight inside and slurped around him, delving to that spot within him. He looked up at Genesis with glowing green eyes as he flicked his tongue again and again against his sweet spot until he saw stars, and then carefully extracted himself, letting saliva drop from his mouth onto that waiting pink hole. Genesis was delicious, tasting clean and good. He slowly inserted two then three fingers inside him, stretching his hole as he breathed against his thigh. 

“Seph,” Genesis moaned, bucking his hips. “Please….put it inside me.” 

Sephiroth took his fingers out of that twitching little hole that was opening for him and lined himself up to push inside, groaning when he was fully inside him. Genesis remembered to breathe then, legs draping themselves over Sephiroth’s shoulders and pulling him in closer.   
“Goddess you feel good,” Genesis moaned, writhing beneath him on the sheets, hands clawing at the fabric there. 

“You feel good too,” Sephiroth admitted. “Like I belong here.”

“You do…gods but you do,” Genesis hissed. “Fuck me…harder…oh Sephiroth,” he whined. Sephiroth smiled and kissed him fiercely as he started to snap his hips into the redhead, making him moan so sweetly. They writhed against one another, lost in the feeling of their lovemaking. It was different than before. Each knew they loved one another now, and they built toward a crescendo. Sephiroth palmed Genesis’s cock between them and panted roughly into Genesis’s ear, biting and tugging on his earring like he knew Genesis liked. It made more plaintive cries tumble out of the redhead’s lips and soon he was coming between them, crying out Sephiroth's name. Sephiroth called Gensis’s name soon after, his own orgasm milked out of him by the tight pulsing of Genesis’s inner muscles. 

“I love you too,” Sephiroth panted into Genesis’s ear, then slowly slipped out. 

“Stay with me,” Genesis begged, holding onto Sephiroth's shoulders desperately, refusing to let him go again. 

“I will,” he said softly and collapsed by Genesis’s side. It was the first time he stayed after they'd had sex, and Genesis was deliriously happy. Sephiroth was asleep within minutes, but Genesis watched him sleep for a time, wondering at his sleep-softened features. Sephiroth was heart breakingly beautiful. He silently prayed to his goddess that nothing would ever change now between them. It was just perfect like this. Soon he was asleep too, and his mind was blissfully blank.


	11. A Demon's Fate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Genesis continues to be sick while Sephiroth is away in Wutai, returning to claim what is his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this chapter with Within Temptation's "A Demon's Fate" on repeat. 
> 
> Next chapter will see some movement on Hojo's part to take Genesis under his power. The Game intensifies.

The mako sickness wasn’t going away—if anything, it was getting worse, and Sephiroth was called on another mission. Genesis was miserable, having nightmares nightly, and his sleeping was a mess.

  
Hollander ran a few tests but couldn't find the source of Genesis’s sickness. It was like he was falling apart before his very eyes. He gave him sedatives and treated his fevers, but it was only a temporary fix.

  
Determined to work through his problem, Genesis drove himself to exhaustion in the training room. He'd had mako sickness before and worked through it before, but he knew this was different. Every day he was a little more exhausted, his muscles ached a little more, and there was no sign of Sephiroth. Angeal, for his part, told the teen that he would soon get better—that he always got better, but deep down Genesis felt defective somehow. But he didn't work this hard to be in SOLDIER for nothing.

  
Days turned into weeks turned into months and he wasn't getting any better. Eventually Hojo was consulted, which must have took the other man a considerable amount of biting his pride to do. The two were bitter rivals and had once vied for head of the science division of Shinra. The man was reduced to a second rate scientist because of President Shinra, and Genesis knew he had to feel bitter about it, though he did not show it.

  
Whether Hojo gleaned any information from his myriad of tests, Genesis did not know, but what he did know was that he wasn't getting mako injections any longer. He felt weaker, somehow, and felt he needed to compensate for this. When he fought Angeal, he fought like a man possessed. So few answers were given him, and now he felt inadequate. Time after time Angeal bested him and he went on to train to exhaustion, falling to sleep in a feverish stupor.

  
It had been months since he saw Sephiroth. Part of him was resigned to the fact that the man simply did not wish to see him—there were no calls, no messages on his PHS, just radio silence. From what he understood, negotiations were being held in Wutai and Sephiroth was needed to speak to Lord Godo and his men, but even Angeal was going on missions to Wutai, whereas he was left to be babysat by scientists who prodded and poked at him. It was infuriating.

  
One night after the labs Genesis decided enough was enough and went to visit Director Lazard. He was tired of the labs, the sedatives, the way he was constantly cast aside, and Sephiroth's absence. Did his admission of love mean nothing to him? Was it all lies? He felt used and tired, so very tired.

  
Lazard, to his credit, admitted he hadn't been utilizing Genesis due to a directive from Professor Hojo. Genesis was furious. Now they were blocking him from doing his job. What good was he?

  
Storming into the labs, he found Hojo staring through a microscope, hands moving blindly over a keyboard, describing what he saw.

  
“You will tell me what is going on. Now,” Genesis demanded.

  
“You will know nothing,” Hojo hissed, eyes tight, but he didn't look up from his typing.

  
“Why am I left to rot in this Hell while Angeal and Sephiroth get all the glory?” Genesis demanded, slamming his hands on the counter beside Hojo.

  
“You are inferior,” Hojo spat, confirming Genesis’s fears. But that was all he would say.

Security was on Genesis in the next moment, and although he drew Rapier, Lazard showed up and shook his head.

  
“Genesis. We've recommended the three of you for First. If you harm anyone here, you will be dishonorably discharged from the military.” His hands were now tied with this statement, and he sheathed Rapier, quaking with rage.

  
How could he be recommended for First while at the same time being forced into inaction? It was too much, but with nothing to do for it he simply left for Hollander’s lab.

  
“What is happening to me?” He hissed. “No one will tell me. My head is on fire and I feel like I'm losing control.”

  
Hollander simply shook his head.

  
No one would explain anything to him. He felt like he was living a nightmare.

  
That night Sephiroth came to him, just when he'd thought he'd truly go insane. There he was, in his apartment, wearing the yukata he’d worn that night of the festival. He hadn't even changed from his journey.

  
“Why are you here?” Genesis asked bitterly. In his absence, Genesis had hardened his heart against his silver angel, but here he was, so heartbreakingly beautiful he couldn't look at him.

  
“Genesis, I've missed you,” Sephiroth said, reaching out to him. Genesis flinched away from him.

  
“Don't touch me. They won't send me to Wutai. They won't send me anywhere. Something is wrong and no one will tell me what it is. And you….you've been away and I haven't heard from you in over two months.”

  
“I was busy,” Sephiroth sighed, looking like he didn't know where to go. He stood awkwardly in Genesis’s apartment, not knowing what to do with his hands.

  
“You can't just tell me you love me then leave for two months,” Genesis laughed bitterly. “And then tell me you were busy as if that matters.” Genesis waved his PHS around, which he took from his pocket and placed on his coffee table with a resounding thunk. “Dead air for two whole months. What was I supposed to think?” He asked wearily. Sephiroth dared to venture closer. As he moved, the yukata spilled around him and he sat gently on the couch beside Genesis, but at opposite ends, as if he was afraid to come too close.

  
“I…I don't know how to do this,” Sephiroth said softly.

  
“For two months I've been stuck in Midgar. You sent for Angeal. He's not even your second-in-command,” Genesis said woodenly. He felt tension spreading like wildfire, settling in his shoulders.

  
“I knew you weren't feeling well,” Sephiroth tried to explain. He placed his hand between them, an invitation which Genesis ignored.

  
“I know Hojo knows what's wrong with me,” Genesis said softly.

  
“What's happening to you? You look…haggard.”

  
“And the most beautiful man I know has just told me I look like shit,” Genesis hissed. “This night can't get any worse.” Sephiroth took his hand back and recoiled as if he'd been burned.

  
“I didn't mean it like that,” Sephiroth whispered.

  
“How did you mean it then?” Genesis asked, looking at Sephiroth through the fringe of his auburn hair, eyes glowing dimly in the low light.

  
“I am…concerned. I heard you were training yourself to exhaustion, getting constant fevers…”

  
“I'm a mess,” Genesis admitted. “Is that what you want to hear? I'm barely sleeping…I can't…the nightmares are bad.”

  
Sephiroth sat closer and took Genesis’s hand.

  
“They've recommended us for First Class. I can't have you ill. I'll speak to Hojo. I'll…”

  
“There's nothing you can do.” He moved his hand away, miles apart from Sephiroth in spirit.  
“You don't know that, Genesis.”

  
“What do you care? You came to my apartment two months too late.”

  
“I…I still have feelings for you,” Sephiroth ventured. “That has never changed. I thought of you. I dreamed of you. I just couldn't reach out to you knowing I'd only get distracted.”

  
“Is that what I am?” Genesis asked. “A distraction?”

  
“Things were easier when we fought one another instead of aired our feelings,” Sephiroth said wearily. “I came here to pick up where we left.”

  
“This isn't chess,” Genesis said angrily. “You can't leave me for two months and expect me to be the same person.”

  
“You are my Genesis. That has not changed.” Sephiroth sat so that their knees were touching and cupped Genesis’s face. “Honestly, when it was just me at night in my tent, I thought of you…of your lips, your tongue…I even thought of that stupid poem you love so much. Don't you think we deserve to pick up where we left off?” He moved his face close and kissed Genesis almost chastely, tentatively. “I thought of you as I stared at the sky, wondering if you were looking up at your ceiling thinking of me.”

  
“Of course I thought of you,” Genesis whispered. He took Sephiroth's hand in his and traced it with his thumb. “You….look so beautiful in that yukata. Like an angel.”

  
“A cruel angel,” Sephiroth said. “I have been cruel to you. I am sorry. Let me make it up to you. Your skin feels so hot…are you feverish now?”

  
“Yeah, but it's not as bad as it was a few nights ago. I couldn't keep anything down….I'm scared my body is rejecting the mako. They won't inject me. I'm…actually missing the injections. I…used to feel so powerful when Hollander did it. Like I was receiving some boon.”

  
“The gift of the goddess,” Sephiroth smiled.

  
“Yeah,” Genesis smiled.

  
“You've lost weight,” Sephiroth said, studying the man before him.

  
“I'm keeping up with my training schedule,” Genesis said defensively. Even like this he wanted to impress his General.

  
“You need to take care of yourself,” Sephiroth said gently. “When's the last time you ate?”

  
“I don't know. I…it's all been a blur since you've left me.”

  
“I was always going to come back to you,” Sephiroth whispered, leaning his head against Genesis’s. “Let us get you something to eat.” He reluctantly parted from Genesis and got up to look through his kitchen. Finding a few ingredients to put together a meal, he set to work.

  
“Don't you want to be in your own apartment, washing off the travel?” Genesis asked. He stood and followed Sephiroth to the kitchen, musing to himself that his hair looked windswept and lovely. Somehow the effects of travel didn't reach him.

  
“That can wait. I've neglected you, and I am clearly not in your good graces. I must redeem myself somehow.”

  
“By cooking me a meal?” Genesis laughed. Somehow he couldn't stay mad at Sephiroth. Even after two months of not seeing him, after two months of edging his anger and denouncing him, seeing him again was like drinking water after being deadly thirsty. This man was like the very necessity of air to breathe, and being around him made him ache.

  
“I…missed you,” he said suddenly, honestly. Sephiroth was often like a ghost, passing in the night unchecked. Sometimes he had to see that he was really there—flesh and bone before him, the result of many years wishing he could be there for him, real and not just some imagined man, a figment of his imagination. He'd gotten so used to writing to him, imagining a tie between them, he often wondered if there was really anything there.  
“Me too. You don't know how much,” he responded, turning, placing the chicken he was handling down. He opened and closed his mouth, jaw working tightly, as if he was going to say something. This man, who could get him to open his heart, normally so closed, was right there before him, and he had no idea how much his existence validated his realness. He'd often felt like a slip of a person, someone going through the motions, but Genesis made him feel real.

  
“I don't need to eat right now,” Genesis whispered, sliding his hands into the yukata and pulling Sephiroth close so they were pressed against one another. “Not when you're actually here after so long,” he whispered, pressing his lips to Sephiroth’s jaw, working his way down to kissing his neck.

  
“Genesis,” Sephiroth breathed, voice trembling slightly.

  
“Sephiroth, I need you,” Genesis breathed, snaring him in a kiss that let him know just how much he did need him. Sephiroth kissed back and moved forward, pressing Genesis against the wall, claiming him with more searing kisses. And then he was taking him against that wall, using one hand to close his hands around Genesis’s, pinning him.

  
“You're mine,” he breathed, and then they were moving against one another. Sephiroth slipped his fingers into Genesis’s mouth and used the saliva to press into him with those fingers. Genesis gasped and wrapped his legs around Sephiroth after he'd shed his sleep pants.

  
“Yours,” Genesis growled back, getting on his knees to coat Sephiroth's cock in saliva, preparing him. Sephiroth roughly tugged him up by his hair and entered him hastily, and then they were moving against one another again. Genesis felt alive then, felt Sephiroth acutely. If he closed his eyes and opened them, would this man still be there, or would he vanish like so many of his dreams?

  
Suddenly it did not matter. All that mattered

was Sephiroth pressing him up against the wall and taking him. He didn't know where he began and the other man ended, where pleasure and pain intersected.  
After, they made a simple meal together, and Sephiroth used his shower. They made love there too, Sephiroth pressing Genesis up against the glass and taking him languidly. It was perfect, and Genesis forgot all his cares and worries.

  
In the light of day everything would be different, but all that mattered for right now was Sephiroth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, if you are enjoying this fic, consider reviewing. Thank you.


	12. Gilded Cage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You are inferior,” Hojo had hissed at him, and it was true. He was a fallen angel, and everything was falling all around him. “You're degrading and soon you will be nothing. Was it worth it, for a taste of Sephiroth?”

Genesis was tired. Bone-achingly tired. No amount of sleep was helping, especially now that his sleep was so often plagued by nightmares. He was half monster, half angel, black wing sheltered against the cold light of morning. In his nightmares he was trapped by a rusted cage, and he looked like a crumbling statue. Somewhere in his consciousness he reached out to his goddess, to his god that was Sephiroth, but the end was always the same.

Hopelessness, pure hopelessness and despair filled him. Where he walked, the piano of “Love and Loss” filled him, the acts of Loveless banged around in his brain. The years of his short life burned him, filling him with dread of his future. His lungs burned and he curled his fists against a glass that held him suspended in fluid, wing curled around him like a cloak. He was a lost little boy, pretending at being a man, trapped by the life he led.

He was training when the seizure happened. They told him it was the fevers, that his body was breaking down. It was when he was taken to Hojo that his gilded cage was given to him. He was allowed to attend his promotion to First Class, was allowed to go off with Sephiroth, but his body was betraying him. The mako injections resumed but they were different—higher concentrations, he thought. His eyes glowed green temporarily and he felt an alien presence buzzing inside him, giving him strength but taking so much from him.

Sephiroth tried to pull him away, but he was sent to Wutai again, and he was left to Hojo. It felt like Sephiroth was allowing him in his clutches. If he could be torn apart and rebuilt, Hojo would have done it, did do it. Hollander was complicit in Hojo’s rebuilding of his makeup, but his body was rejecting it. Whatever he was injected with made him violently ill. And then all the sudden, just as the fevers came on, they went away. No one knew why, but he was better again. Still his gilded cage was the mako chambers. He knew rest only when he was there, floating in the green liquid that had given him life in Midgar. He felt stronger, faster, better, and Hojo laughed maniacally as he tested him rigorously. Monster after monster fell at his feet. Years passed this way.

Suddenly he was sent to Wutai. He lost himself in the act of killing human beings where previously he'd been killing monsters. He donned new clothes, befitting the Consort of a man who was Sephiroth’s. Red leather clashed with black leather and when they were on the battlefield they were like moon and sun, fire and ice made real. He found that when he was looking in the mirror he had to check himself for scales. It would have been better that way—if tooth and nail had turned to fang and claw he would have been happier rending flesh from bone. Under Sephiroth, he was killing more human lives than saving them. The peace treaties failed. Blood had to be shed. Wutai had declared war on Shinra. He wasn't sure how much time passed, but it was falling all around him without his consent and he was seeing the demon of Wutai made real, feeling like a demon himself.

One night he was caught by the sight of Sephiroth drenched in blood, bits of human life clinging to his hair. He looked terrible and beautiful, the picture of a blood-covered warlord. He'd kissed him like that—they were both covered in blood. The stars were beautiful that night, and the floor served as their bed as they made love under that terrible sky with their coats against the earth. It was the first time they'd made love in what felt like forever, and he wondered if it would be their last.

On leave, he'd fought Sephiroth with Angeal as usual, but he was out to make Sephiroth bleed. Infinite in mystery was the gift of the goddess, and her will was not to make Sephiroth bleed but for Genesis to. He was told, like always, not to take Sephiroth lightly, Angeal’s features screwed up with concern at the way Genesis was out for blood, but Genesis was heedless. They'd been fighting, their relationship was strained, and Genesis was childish.

  
Masamune cut through his shoulder like white hot fire and he fell to the floor, the virtual reality of Junon crashing around him. He'd said he was fine, but he wasn't. It'd been weeks and he wasn't healing, the wound gray around the edges as if he was a torn statue.  
That was when he felt it one night, tearing through him like new life and death. White streaked his auburn hair when it was done tearing through him, and he unfurled a black wing at his side, bloody from ripping through his shoulder blades. Terrified, he'd confronted Hojo, who only laughed.

“You played with my angel and here you are, an angel yourself. A terrible disfigured monster. You're degrading.”

“You're degrading.” He heard the words echo in his head. He'd tried to rip the thing out himself, tearing sinew and bone from himself. He'd passed out from blood loss and was dragged to Hollander’s lab. There the wing just tore from him once again, bloody feathers enveloping him from the joints he'd torn apart. They had mended themselves with more mako injections. His gilded cage was only made more beautiful by the addition of this wing. There Hollander took his DNA and made monsters with his face.

The first time he saw his own reflection staring back at him was nerve wracking. He was a monster, and here was the evidence. He'd tried to rip his wing out again, sawing at it with Rapier. The thing turned to ash in his gloved fingers and sprang to new life again, pushing bone from bone, life from the carcass of death. He was death itself, made living on the battlefield of Wutai.

He'd gone to Banora in his cloud of hate, and found the trees overflowing with dumbapples. It tasted like bitter irony.It'd been the first place he flew to on his new wing, finding his nightmares made real. He'd taken a dumbapple and bit into it, finding it tasting like ash in his mouth. Everything tasted of death. Even Sephiroth, who once tasted of so much life. Simpler times were on his mind, when he could just take what was his. Now Sephiroth feared him.

  
The first time he came to Sephiroth on his new wing, holding out the Banora White apple, Sephiroth had looked at him with disgust.

“What happened to you?” Sephiroth had asked.

“My nightmares are becoming real. Soon your lips will be but a memory.”

He'd kissed Sephiroth. He’d held him tenuously with his wing and insisted they made love like this, but Sephiroth was afraid. His lover had become a monster.

Love was dying around him and soon he was left with himself, his ability to clone himself into other monsters. He'd caressed his own face, made winged creatures with his visage.  
No one could save a fallen angel, not even Sephiroth. He was losing himself at a dizzying pace. He didn't know who was in control. All he saw was a monster clawing at life.

“You are inferior,” Hojo had hissed at him, and it was true. He was a fallen angel, and everything was falling all around him. “You're degrading and soon you will be nothing. Was it worth it, for a taste of Sephiroth?”

He couldn't even be happy for Angeal, who had Zack now. He couldn't be happy for Sephiroth, who was miserable without him, but scared of him. He sat above the city and held a Banora White apple against his chest, and made his decision.

He'd take everyone down with him if he was dying.


	13. Refrain

Sephiroth was sitting alone, sounds of his piano filling the space of his apartment. “Love and Loss” drifted from his fingertips, hugging the silence.

A single black feather fell before him and he continued to play even as Genesis swept forward, his wing stretched out before him.

“I've thought so often of this song recently,” Genesis whispered, as if the piece would be disturbed by the full volume of his voice. “What it meant for you—for us. Are we doomed to lose one another?”

Sephiroth stopped playing, his fingers splaying over the keys and making a discordant sound fill the apartment briefly.

“Genesis…” Sephiroth whispered, turning in his chair, hair falling forward over his shoulders. Silence hung heavily between the two as they looked at one another.

“I’m dying,” Genesis said. “Degrading.”

“I know,” Sephiroth said softly. “What do you want me to do?”

“Come with me to Wutai.”

“You know I can't,” Sephiroth stated coolly. “I'm loyal to Shinra.”

“With you at my side, we can rule the world.” He stretched out his wing and moved closer, furling it around Sephiroth's shoulder. Sephiroth only shook his head.

“My duty is here. SOLDIER is in disarray. You shouldn't be here. They'll find you out and have you executed.”

“I've gotten part of SOLDIER to desert. They're coming with me. All that's missing is you,” he whispered.

“You know I can’t,” Sephiroth repeated. “Even though I love you, I'll be forced to turn you in. You should leave before I do.”

“One last kiss. That's what I've come for. One last embrace before I leave this earth.”

Sephiroth contemplated the melody he'd been playing one last time before he stood and stepped toward Genesis. The breeze from the window and the light caught on the two lovers like a sensual embrace.

“You shouldn't come to me any longer. We’re enemies now, you and I.”

“I can't stand to think of you as my enemy when you are my lover,” Genesis said, holding Sephiroth's cheek in his hand. Sephiroth turned his face into that hand and kissed those red-clad fingers.

It was early morning, just past daybreak, and the light made his hair seem a luster of purple. His skin glowed. He was in his sleep pants, chest bare, and Genesis was wearing too many clothes.

“Do you resent me for not following you to the ends of the earth?” He'd asked.

“I could never resent you, although I'm truly heartbroken. This is probably the last time I will be able to touch you, be touched by you. The next time we meet, I will have Rapier drawn. I intend not to go down without a fight.”

“I won't fight you,” Sephiroth promised, but it was an empty promise. His prediction that he'd have to go up against his friends was becoming a very real prospect.

“Then kiss me,” Genesis breathed, his face a mere inch from Sephiroth's. The silver-haired man smiled sadly and pressed an almost chaste kiss to his lips, but then began to kiss in earnest.

“I will miss you,” Sephiroth whispered. Genesis was slowly undoing his armor. Sephiroth touched the wing, sliding his fingers into the black feathers, running his fingertips up the muscled joints of it. It must have been sensitive, because Genesis gave a soft sigh of pleasure. “I fought one of your copies the other day. It gave me no pleasure to sink my blade into something with your face, your body.” He searched Genesis’s eyes, not sure what he was looking for.

“I will miss you more,” Genesis promised, calling the wing away as he shed his coat and let it fall to the floor.

“It doesn't have to be this way,” Sephiroth said, helping him out of his clothes, unbuckling his leather.

“Poor sweet Sephiroth. You have no idea what I've uncovered recently. Project G, they call it, and I am the prototype. If anything, it had to end up this way. But know this, you are still mine.”

Questions lit themselves in Sephiroth's eyes, but he did not voice them. All that mattered was the skin that was now revealed before him. He slid his hands into Genesis’s hair and pulled him close, kissing Genesis crushingly.

They made love as the morning climbed the Shinra building, and after Genesis began to redress himself, pulling his boots back on.

“The three friends,” Genesis whispered. “One is captured…one flies away…the one who is left becomes a hero. I intend not to be captured.”

Sephiroth memorized the look of Genesis’s back as he flew out of his window, sadness in his eyes.


	14. Allocution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Showing only bits and pieces, Til the tide betrays you, And your empty allocution" --"By and Down" by A Perfect Circle

“What have you done, Genesis?” Angeal said fiercely. Genesis is covered in blood and fresh dirt clings to him like a shroud. The Game, once reserved for he and Sephiroth is now their lives. Project G, Project S: their lives were merely a scientific gamble. And here is Angeal, perfect white wing in contrast to Genesis’s black wing, corrupted by vengeance.

  
He hears the piano, sees Sephiroth's fingers splayed on it even now after the shocked faces of his parents’ death throes echo in his mind. They had pleaded, told him that they loved him, but there was never any love, was there? Only greed. Shinra made him sick. He was destined to die from the imperfect union of cells copied onto him at birth, destined to denounce Shinra. Anathema coursed through his body as he looked at Angeal, their two wings like two halves: one light, one dark, jutting out of opposite shoulders.

  
“What have you done?” Angeal repeated.

  
“Just like Gillian could not live, neither could my adoptive parents.”

  
“Gillian killed herself,” Angeal said sadly. “The son..cannot go on as well.”

  
“That is a choice I cannot let you make. Desert with me. You cannot live on that side anymore.”

  
“I can't live with this…dishonor.”

  
“What do you intend to do, friend? In a world that abhors you and I…”

  
“Zack,” Angeal said, coming to stand at a tree that had a fresh grave marker. “I…will force his hand.” He wrapped his wing around himself, stared at the rocks which marked the fresh death, the blood that stained the earth.

  
“He loves you.” Genesis raised a perfect eyebrow.

  
“I'm already gone. A perfect monster…in death, he will fight on with my sword. He’ll go up against you. Fight for Shinra. For SOLDIER.”

  
“Can't you see that there is no honor for us? We are monsters with neither dreams nor honor. Join me and seek revenge for what they did to us. Gillian is gone…my parents, too. Everyone who had a hand in this will suffer.”

  
“The only ones who will suffer…is us. Did they beg for their lives?” Angeal asked sadly.

  
“They did. They apologized. But it was too late, friend. The damage is already done. The dream we had growing up was a lie, shattered and splintered from the start. Your Shinra lapdog will suffer. Sephiroth will suffer.”

  
“They won't desert,” Angeal said, picking up a rock, placing it next to the ones on the grave.

  
“They are fools. Sephiroth is not unlike you and I. Even Zack…all of SOLDIER…bred to be monsters in human form. Angeal…I can't make you choose a different path? We started out together. We should…we should be together. We deserve each other, you and I.” Genesis stepped toward Angeal, curled his wing against Angeal's, pressed his fingers to his thin lips.

  
“Don't. You chose Sephiroth a long time ago. There is no place in your heart for me.”

  
“That was never true,” Genesis whispered, kissing those lips. But although Angeal let him, he did not kiss back. He turned away from him, as he probably always would have.

  
“How I had longed for you to see me as a part of you,” Angeal whispered back. “But it's too late. Genesis, I've closed my heart up to you. I no longer wish to be with you, a part of you.”

  
“You will always love me. Keep loving me, after I'm gone?”

  
“I will be long gone before you are.”

  
And it was true. Angeal had died and given up his Buster sword, shoved it into Zack’s hands even as he left this earth, left Gaia. Now he was part of the Lifestream, a bigger part of something. He lived on through Zack, who had taken up his morals and looked at Genesis not like a monster, but a broken thing.

  
And he was a broken thing. Everything he'd always wanted was turning to dust. Banora is but a memory as it is doused in fire—cleansed from Gaia. The Banora White trees are no more than shriveled things now, a memory.

  
Genesis remembered simpler times, when he would sneak into the factory to make alcohol out of the Banora White apples, get Angeal drunk on the stuff and kiss him under the tree, laughing about their future. Now there is no laughter. He pours over old tomes in Modeoheim which tell him about Jenova cells and his unstable makeup. Hollander is useless. He doesn't know how to get Jenova cells, but he's sure that Hojo gave them to him to get him over his Mako sickness. Even more of these reports tell him about Sephiroth, his perfect Jenova cell cohesion, and Project S.

  
Nibelheim is a perfect place for him to find out more about Sephiroth, more about what he needs from his silver-haired lover.

  
He needs Jenova cells, and he needs Sephiroth to give them to him.

  
In the heart of the reactor, he finds Sephiroth quaking with emotion, having uncovered his mother’s name there. Zack is there, Buster sword strapped to his back.

  
“I knew, ever since I was a child,” Sephiroth whispers, “I was not like the others. I knew mine was a special existence. But this,” he said as a monster slid out from its mako prison, “this was not what I meant.” He studied his hands, clad in the black leather of his uniform.

  
“Am I...a human being?”

  
“No such luck,” Genesis whispered, coming forth from the shadows, his wing unfurling at his side, drawing close to his friend and lover. “You are a monster.” Sephiroth closed his fists and sighed as he felt Genesis at his back. “You were the greatest monster created by the Jenova Project.”

  
Zack stirs from the side, scoffs. “Genesis, so you are alive.” Genesis smirks, touching his red-clad fingers to his cheek.

  
“I suppose I am, if you can call this living.” He hasn't felt alive since he'd last seen Sephiroth, kissed trails up his neck and made him take him in his apartment, that song still clinging to them. He doubted in that moment he'd ever truly feel alive again…unless he got what he needed from Sephiroth. His cells.

  
“What is the Jenova Project?” Sephiroth asked desperately. Genesis smiled, mako eyes lighting on Sephiroth’s shattered face, the questions he had clearly written there.

  
“The Jenova Project was the term used for all experiments relating to the use of Jenova’s cells.”

  
Sephiroth turned toward the door labeled with his mother’s name.

  
“My mother’s cells?” He questioned, eyes studying the door.

  
“Poor little Sephiroth,” Genesis snorted, arms wide as he came closer to Sephiroth. His hair, peppered with gray, tumbled about his eyes, longer now. “You've never actually met your mother,” he said conspiratorially. “You've only been told her name, no?” He never actually knew much about Sephiroth’s origin until he started reading all the reports the scientists created. It was sad really…he'd lived such a lonely existence before he and Angeal came to be with him. He'd always envied a man who felt empty. He came to believe, after reading all the reports he'd found, that he and Angeal gave the man some meaning to his existence. He'd certainly given him love where he had none before. He read reports from a man called Gast in Nibelheim—he appeared to be the only one who treated him with any sense of humanity, but even he saw Sephiroth as an experiment created by a team of scientists, including himself.

  
“I don't know what images you've conjured up in your head, but...” he said, sitting on the steps in the heart of the reactor. Zack tried to tell him to stop, but it was too late. “Jenova was excavated from a 2,000 year old rock layer.” Here he gave a pause to look at the side of Sephiroth's face, carefully studying his reaction. “ She's a monster.” When Sephiroth staggered back, pain in his eyes, Genesis drank it in like a fine vintage.

  
“Sephiroth,” he said, looking up. “I need your help.” He looked down, hand carefully folded over his knee, studying the apple he'd brought with him, intending to share it with his lover. “My body is continuing to degrade.” He stood, staring at the fall of Sephiroth's hair.

“SOLDIER First Class Sephiroth!”

  
Sephiroth looked up, a noise dying in his throat at the words which stung now. What was he? Certainly a monster, and not a SOLDIER. Genesis hmphed as he drew closer still.

  
“Jenova Project G gave birth to Angeal and monsters like myself,” he said, hands sweeping. “The Jenova Project used the remains of countless failed experiments to create a perfect monster.”

  
“What do you want of me?” Sephiroth asked, shaking his head. He felt so weary now, drained. What did Genesis want, having told him all this?

  
“Your traits cannot be copied unto others,” Genesis started, smirking. “Your genes can't be diffused. Therefore, your body cannot degrade. Share your cells with me. _My friend, your desire is the bringer of life, the gift of the goddess._ ” He outstretched his arm, holding the apple out to Sephiroth, its purple coat gleaming in the sickly green light of the reactor.

  
“Whether your words are lies created to deceive me, or the truth that I have sought all my life, it makes no difference,” Sephiroth said, casting the apple aside with a toss of his wrist. Genesis’s features screwed up at that, staring after the apple.

  
“You will rot,” he said cruelly. The words echoed in Genesis’s brain. Flashes of Sephiroth kissing him and denouncing him warred in his brain. The dream he had so many years ago…it came true. Sephiroth took one last look at him before descending the stairs.

  
“I see,” Genesis said, touching his hand as if it'd been burned by a fire spell. “Perfect monster, indeed.” He looked up to Jenova’s cell and sighed. “ _When the war of the beasts bring about the world’s end,_ ” he said, fist clenching at the sky, “ _the goddess descends from the sky. Wings of light and dark spread afar. She guides us to bliss…her gift everlasting._ ”

  
Zack tried to stop him, but it was too late.

  
He left, and with that he knew his fate was sealed. Sephiroth would not save him, could not even save himself. He watched as his lover descended into madness, locking himself in Shinra mansion for days with the tomes which described everything Genesis said and more.

  
Nibelheim was no more, and soon word reached him that neither was his lover. He was killed in action by no more than a boy, of all people. He wished it had been him to end his life. To him, it was the only death fitting. How glorious and romantic it would have been to go down together, the two perfect monsters that they were.

  
Genesis knew his fate was sealed now and he didn't care if he was alive or dead. Two of his most important people were dead now, and he was the only friend left. The three friends…. one is captured…one flies away…the one who is left becomes a hero. It never said that the three friends would be separated by death, but this is life and things don't go according to poetry.

  
So he would be the one to fly away. There was no hero, and they were all captured, used against themselves in the gilded cage that was SOLDIER.

  
He grieved Sephiroth harder than he did Angeal. He grieved what could have been. He had always imagined a life where he could steal his silver-haired angel away, live the rest of their lives happy together. But that was never going to be the case. His one last chance was in Nibelheim, imploring him for his Jenova makeup, but Sephiroth had denied him—was always going to deny him.

  
He thought back to that night when he'd made him bleed beneath him, and grieved that he'd never been able to properly make love to him. He imagined what it could have been like, holding down all his raw power, what it could have been like to make him succumb to him.

  
Sadness filled his heart.


	15. The Game: Reprise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The conclusion to "The Game". You'll find that it's a happy ending, but perhaps not the ending you would have expected.

Four years passed in slow motion for Genesis.

He knew that Zack had been captured by Hojo, along with the boy who had succeeded in killing his lover. He spent his time between the Shinra Mansion and Banora, haunting both like a ghost. His hair was mostly white now. Every mirror he encountered he cracked with angry fists, the reflection reminding him that he was but a monster. It wouldn't be long now, but he knew Zack would escape soon, and he'd be rife with Jenova cells. That was his plan, to receive the gift of the goddess. In the end he'd get his wish from so many years ago. He'd never shared a Banora White with Sephiroth, not really. It was his dream to take Sephiroth to his hometown and show him the taste of Banora White apple juice fresh from the factory, to share a fruit with him. If he could share a fruit with Zack and Cloud he'd come full circle.

  
Zack was Angeal's successor, and he would carry a part of his lover. The three friends would be reunited once again. He knew the planet had more in store for him. He knew that he'd been allowed to live because he had some hand yet in saving what was yet his to save. Perhaps he wasn't the villain he'd once thought he was when he killed his parents, had a hand in destruction of everything he held dear. Perhaps Zack would save him, make him whole once again.

So it was that that agonizing wait was over. He still remembered Angeal and Sephiroth's faces like it was yesterday that carefree times were about him. But Zack was weary and he'd wanted to save him. He wasn't sure why the boy-turned-man wanted to save him. Perhaps it was an obligation to Angeal, to seeing his honor played out, and saving the world from Genesis himself. Perhaps this was the Game he sought out all along.

But Genesis did not crave destruction as he once did. The rage that washed over him when Sephiroth met his cruel fate was all but gone; in its place was a desire for his goddess to save him, to spare him his cruel fate and to make him the hero once again. He needed Zack, as much as he hated to admit it, because he was the reunion he sought out.

And so, when Zack sought him out in Banora he smiled. He would not make it easy.

They fought bitterly, and Zack, weary from fighting, still bested him. He had all the power of Angeal and Sephiroth. As much as he hated to admit it, he was no match for the man.  
When Zack held out the apple to him as he rested against a propped chair he bit into it gratefully. He accepted his slumber, his descent into Deepground. Perhaps, one day, he'd be needed. After all, he was the hero now, every bit as much as Zack.

It gave him no pleasure to find out when he woke from his slumber that Zack was dead. He'd thought that the man was the three friends’ living legacy. He wasn't sure what woke him, but he remembered the touch and presence of Minerva, of Gaia, the planet opening up to him.

  
And he felt the presence of his beloved too.

It took him a few days to travel to the Northern Crater, but he found Sephiroth's body there encapsulated in crystal. Was it some cruel joke? He watched his own reflection in the crystal, his face hovering right before Sephiroth's. But something was wrong. Jenova’s presence was too strong.

He left the Northen Crater and waited for his lover to reemerge into the world born anew. He waited until his presence was desired once again. It took everything in him to watch and wait for the perfect time.

Cloud had left Sephiroth's dying and bloody body to return to the lifestream, and that's when he came to him.

“My poor sweet Sephiroth,”he crooned. The dying man’s face turned up toward him, eyes opening wide with shock. He carefully shined the apple he'd brought with him from the budding new trees in Banora. He raised the fruit carefully to Sephiroth’s bloody lips. “I have one last request for you. Bite this apple, and then…use your sword to bring me with you into Lifestream. We will be together, finally.”

Sephiroth took a slow labored breath and gently worked his mouth against the apple.  
“It was always my wish to share one with you,” he whispered, taking the apple and biting into it where Sephiroth’s bite was. It tasted sweeter for it having been shared.

“Death is not the end,” Sephiroth whispered hoarsely. “Even there, mother may follow me.”

  
“We will fight her, you and I,” Genesis promised. He put the apple aside and helped Sephiroth sit up. “Kiss me, before you kill me,” Genesis whispered. Sephiroth obliged, kissing Genesis sweetly, perhaps a little too weakly, as he was dying.

“We’ll find one another, in Lifestream?” He asked like a child.

“I will implore the goddess for you. She won't refuse me this time.” He took Masamune in his hands and pressed it into Sephiroth's. Sephiroth kissed him one last time before sliding it into his ribs. Genesis gasped. It felt every bit as sweet as it felt horrible. He would be with Sephiroth.

They lay dying together on the rock face, and soon Lifestream came to claim them.  
Genesis saw Minerva smile as he died. Finally he stretched his arms out and she embraced him. His Gaia had accepted him, and he fell back amongst tendrils of green.

When he awoke, Sephiroth was beside him in a bed of flowers, lilies arranged carefully like a pillow below his head, silver hair streaming below him. Genesis himself had daisies, the wild flower, below him. They lay, joined at the hip. Sephiroth smiled sleepily at him.

They made love on their bed of flowers, and it was every bit as sweet as he remembered, even more so because Sephiroth finally submitted to him.

If this is how he would spend eternity, he would willingly accept his fate.

“Love and Loss” did not follow them here, but Sephiroth often played him lullabies on the grand piano in the church to help him go to sleep. Nightmares did not follow him here. There was only peace.

Before them appeared a large chess board and the pieces were the heroes of Gaia.

“Check mate,” Sephiroth announced as he used Aerith to overcome Genesis’s Cloud.

“Go again?” Genesis intoned, as pleased as a cat.

“Of course,” Sephiroth replied silkily.


End file.
